The Last Midsummer
by LadyIdril
Summary: Sequel to Midsummer Knight's Dream. Gaia accompanies Arthur and his knights on the mission to save Alecto, but will the young girl's presence keep the Woads from aiding Arthur? TristanOC, ArthurGuin and LancelotOC
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaime:** I own nothing but Gaia, Titania, Aeron, and any other original characters that I may create along the way :-) Everything else belongs to it's owner!_

_**Summary:** This is the sequel to Midsummer Knight's Dream and covers the events of the film. I suggest that if you haven't read Midsummer Knight's Dream that you do so before reading this one, as I'm not one to recap. Reviews are welcome, and appreciated. Thanks!_

_**A/N:** Back again! This is a slightly difficult story because I don't want the reader to loose interest while I cover the events we already know about. I'm going to try to add some originality to it, and I may stray from the movie for a bit, so hopefully there'll be some twists and curves. Enjoy!_

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Seven knights, six Sarmatian men, a Roman commander, and one, only one, a female Briton. Similarities, they did not have, though as she sat atop her grey mare on the top of a hill overlooking the Roman carriage of Bishop Gnaeus Germanus, she blended well with the men around her. Lady Gaia was clad in trousers and tunic, her chocolate brown hair held back with a bodkin, and her deep brown eyes swept keenly over the knights around her. Her glance fell first upon her Roman commander, Arthur, who sat directly to her right. He was tall, dark, and handsome, though his beauty was veiled by a weary expression and a somber demeanor.

Next to Arthur was Lancelot. Dear Lancelot; as cunning a scoundrel as he appeared to be, his dark eyes smiling in shameless guilt. To Lancelot's right was Bors, the brazen barbarian clad in his Sarmatian armor, watching the scene below him with enthusiasm. Gaia smiled at his interior fervidness and his exterior brutality. She turned her head to her left side to behold the four other knights.

Her eyes immediately met with the eyes of the man directly next to her; Tristan. The scout looked to her, his deep, nearly black eyes searching her figure while a small smile formed on his lips, at which her heart leapt greatly. His semi-braided hair hung loosely around him, making him look every inch as mysterious as he truly was. She smiled an innocent smile to the man, who soon resumed his more natural position of surveying the land ahead of him. On the left of Tristan sat Galahad, the youngest of the knights, Sarmatian to the core. His tongue was sharp, but his blade sharper, and he handled his weapon with speed and precision. Galahad had been abed for nearly a month after nearly being killed in battle, but he had long since healed, though he could still be heard telling the story to a bored barmaid or an unsuspecting child.

Then, there was Gawain. His blonde locks, mangled and long, fell unceremoniously around him and his blonde beard was in dire need of a shaving, but he still, somehow, remained pleasing to the eye, his eyes always lucid, his demeanor always pleasurable. And, situated furthest to the left was Dagonet, the quiet, insightful, mastermind of a knight. He was tallest, that was easy to discern, but his quiet manner and soft speech made it easy for him to go unnoticed.

Gaia smiled and breathed a breath of fresh, British air. It was musky, the sky clouded over as it always was in midsummer. The island was a massive wetland when the summer came round, but that did not make her hold disdain for her birth country. She fought for Rome, yes, but she also protected the ground that she was born to, swearing to let no evil poison it. And this was the end; for one short year she had fight alongside these knights, fought against her own people, the people she had been born to.

Now, as they watched the brougham of Gnaeus Germanus in the distance, they watched their own freedom, for the Bishop had returned to the Roman post in Southern Britain with the release papers for Arthur's knights, discharging them from their duties and allowing them safe passage throughout the Roman empire. Gaia was lost in a reverie of wonderful memories of the last year of her twenty-four-year life, remembering when the knights first found her, beaten and tortured by her father's men. Gawain's soft voice was the awakening to her as she continued her daydreams.

"The Bishop's carriage." He smiled over at the other knights.

"Sheer Roman beauty," remarked Bors with a smirk.

Tristan's deep, rough voice erupted softly as he swore in a whisper and all eyes turned to their scout as he peered narrow-eyed into the distance. "Woads." Seven pairs of eyes followed the gaze of their scout, but none could discern a single blue creature in the distance.

"Are you cert-" Arthur began to question his knight, but was answered as an arrow shot from the wood, narrowly missing one of Bishop Germanus' Roman guards.

As the horses neighed and whinnied with fear, a mass of blue men flooded from the woods in the south, crying their Woad cries and swinging their barbaric weapons. Arthur did not have to tell his knights what was to be done; after fifteen years of battling Woads, they were learned to say the least.

Arthur drew his sword and goaded his horse into a swift canter, leading the men and woman down the hill and into the throng of fighting Woads and Romans. Lancelot cantered without a weapon until they neared the battle scene, in which time he dropped both reins, applying pressure with his calves to steer his stallion, and reached both hands behind him, drawing out two twin blades. He swung them playfully with a malevolent smirk, before plunging into battle, maiming a Woad before dismembering another.

Galahad had drawn his sword, as well, and was easily bringing death to Woads from atop his horse, while Gawain had dismounted and was on the ground with his axe, showing his brazen brutality and gritty fighting skills. Bors had dismounted as well, holding his knives and screaming his deafening Sarmation war cry; Dagonet was exactly the opposite of his friend and brother-in-arms, silently killing with his large axe.

Tristan and Gaia, however, had not followed Arthur and his knights into battle, but in stead had quickly grabbed their bows to fire at hidden archers in the woods. Tristan had fallen several that Gaia had not even seen in the trees, while she kept half an eye on the other knights, constantly counting them and making sure none were harmed by her father's brutal people. Finally, when they could no longer spot any hidden enemies, they rode to the battle itself.

Gaia immediately dismounted, sending her chestnut mare, Latona, away from the battle. She dared not endanger her beloved steed, and preferred to fight in the way she had trained herself: using the earth at every possible moment. Tristan dismounted as well, unsheathing his curved Sarmatian blade and immediately taking out three Woads in three swift movements.

The battle wore on as Dagonet threw himself into a pond with several Woads, Bors' screaming continued to pierce the air, and the other knights moved their weapons with haste. Gaia had worked her way to the bishop's carriage, finding Lancelot and Galahad fighting near to it. She stood very near to the doorway of the carriage, which was hidden by a closed curtain, and noticed the bishop's secretary, Horton, laying underneath the carriage. She shot him a curious look as he wept and prayed and flailed in horror. She wondered how the bishop could be cold enough to dismiss his secretary from the shelter of the carriage, and immediately felt sorrow for the man cowering under the wooden boards. She bent down quickly shooting him a warm, knowing look and a small smile.

"Be silent," she said lightly, "and they will not harm you." He immediately pushed his head to the ground, covering it with his hands, nearly suffocating himself in an attempt to silence his shrieks.

Gaia frowned a bit, malevolent thoughts forming in her head towards the bishop. She decided to put this energy to a better use than fuming inside of her, and directed it to the approaching Woads. She swiftly swung her sword as she watched them running to her, their beaten British swords raised in anger as their screams pierced the ears of those around them.

Gaia was no longer a Woad-friend, and she was not in the least bit unnerved by it. She held great disdain for her father, and greater disdain for the people who worshiped him as if her were a British god. The thought of their ways brought a new wave of lividity to her, and she gave a cry of her own as she launched her sword into the first Woads midriff. He cried out and swung his sword in an attempt to slice into her waist, but she maneuvered around it with grace.

She continued to fight hard, killing Woads with every turn, every swift movement, and very soon, the ground was littered with hundreds of blue corpses. Gaia's eyes moved hastily around, counting the standing men and breathing a sigh of relief at seeing every knight present and unscathed. Her eyes widened when she noticed a Woad approaching from the woods from behind Arthur, raising his sword as Arthur stood unawares.

"Arthur," she screeched, and he immediately turned around, bringing his sword to meet the Woad's own blade. He pushed the Woad onto the ground and poised his sword at his throat. The Woad willingly dropped his sword and held his hands up in surrender, pleading in his people's language that Arthur do him no harm. Arthur stared at him for a moment before kicking the sword a good distance away and sheathing his own. The Woad stared at the Roman commander in astonishment for only a moment before rising and retreating towards the woods.

Gaia immediately turned her attention to the curtain covering the bishop's doorway. Bors was holding it open, peering inside, and when he returned, he barked out a laugh.

"Nice trick," he said through his laughter. "That's not the bishop."

Gaia stared at him for a moment before glancing into the carriage. She, however, did not find humor in the sight which she beheld. A man clad in the bishop's loose, cloak-like cope sat with wide, lifeless eyes that were filled with terror. A long, blue arrow protruded from his chest as he held his crozier in a death grip. Gaia had seen many sights, even watched her own brother die, but perhaps it was that she was unprepared, disillusioned by Bors' keen behavior. She felt her breath catch in her chest as she beheld the horrific scene in front of her. She closed her eyes, fighting the anger that arose, unnerved that a Christian man could allow an innocent man to die in his stead.

As she returned her gaze to the now-all-unhorsed knights and the mounted Roman guards, she noticed Bishop Germanus seated atop a chestnut stallion, clad in the armor of the Roman guards. He sheathed his sword and rode swiftly to Arthur, the large smile on his face burning into Gaia's heart as she remembered the fallen bishop decoy and the whimpering secretary. Immediately remembering that the last time she saw Horton was when he was nearly suffocating himself, she bent down to see him cowering, his head slightly raised and his eyes closed tightly in fear.

"Master Horton," she said in a soothing tone, "all is well." She fought back the scoff that she felt in her heart thinking again of the decoy. She held out her hand as he managed a small smile and clambered out from under the large carriage. His smile faded as he beheld the terrorizing sea of blue corpses around him and he nearly choked on his own breath.

"Dear God," he half-whispered. "They can not be human!"

Lancelot, who was mounting his horse near the carriage, scoffed at the seemingly traumatized Horton. "I see you've gained courage since our last meeting," he muttered under his breath. Gaia, who was trying her best to comfort the secretary, knowing all too well the effects a battle can have on the unarmed, the unprepared, threw a nasty look to Lancelot who only smirked, ignoring her unhappy demeanor.

Gaia scoffed silently at Lancelot's lack of feeling, and turned her eyes across the field in search of Tristan. He had mounted his horse and was speaking with Arthur a ways away. He nodded to his commander before turning and riding to where Gaia stood.

"Everything well?" he asked concernedly, glancing at her figure with seriousness.

When his dark eyes reached her face, she smiled a small smile and nodded. "And yourself?"

"Good enough," he said lightly, glancing around him nonchalantly before nodding to an area where several guards were nursing wounds, one of them lifeless. "A few Romans were injured, one was killed-"

"-two," Gaia corrected, a bit hotly, as she pointed bluntly to the carriage. "Who was he?"

Tristan would have smiled if Gaia had not sounded so unnerved. "You are compassionate, lady," he said, stifling the chuckle that arose. Even though she was the most breathtaking woman he had ever beheld, he thought she was even more beautiful when she was angry, though he would never tell her to her face. "He volunteered; was willing to forfeit his life for the bishop."

"That doesn't make it right," she replied as she looked at the bishop with great disdain. The wind whipped and the dark clouds seemed to gather tighter together as rain began to fall. No one protested this, happy to be relieved of the blood and sweat of battle. Gaia whistled and looked around for Latona, who came running at her master's voice.

She helped Horton onto the horse of a wounded Roman guard, feeling that _someone_ should show respect for the poor man, then she mounted her own horse and joined the knights, who rode back to the hill and continued to watch as the carriage made its way safely through the gates at Hadrian's Wall. As she came up behind the knights, she heard Bors talking loudly, though she did not exactly avert her attention to him, knowing all too well what he was capable of saying.

"-a baby's arm holding an apple," said Gawain, Galahad, and Bors in unison. The group broke into laughter and they turned to Gaia, assuming she had heard their conversation and awaiting her blush.

"Spare me the details, I beg you," she said as she waved a hand, dismissing the joke entirely. The men broke into another round of laughter at her unknowing, and set off down the hill.

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_**A/N:** Well, I had to include that last scene, it was just too fitting. I'm hoping to include Horton a bit more in thise story, as he was sort of invisible in the movie, though he was on the journey with the knights nonetheless. The same goes for Jols, as he actually made the trip to Marius's, but didn't get much acknowledgement from the cameras. So, it begins.._


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N:** This chapter is slightly shorter than the last, but I think it's long enough.. Thanks so much for the kind reviews, I'm glad you all are interested in the story! It does well to keep me going ;-) Enjoy!_

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The knights rode with their horses set on a relaxing walk, and conversed happily with each other, all showing extreme enthusiasm, finally seeing their freedom lingering in the distance. Their world had been darkened for the last fifteen years and light was finally within their grasp, a provocation that they had longed to see for too long.

"What will you do, Bors," Gaia asked as she rode beside the man, "will you and Vanora return to Sarmatia with all of your children?"

"Eh," he muttered, "I've been trying to save myself the pain of making that decision by getting myself killed. Seems like it didn't do me any good, eh?"

"I have forgotten home," added Gawain who rode next to Bors. "It is almost like a fantastic place, one I plan on seeing very soon."

"What will you do first?" asked Gaia, curious as to the customs of the Sarmatian men.

"Marry, I suppose," Gawain said thoughtfully.

"What?" asked Bors incredulously, "you're gonna throw your life away after we've risked our asses to save it for fifteen years!"

The men around him laughed heartily, but Gaia only scoffed. Bors was brutal at times, and she often wished her complexion was not so naturally pale, for she hated the jeers that would ensue whenever her brothers noticed her blushing.

"What's ill, Gaia?" Lancelot had ridden up on Gaia's other side and she looked at him with narrowed eyes as he sniggered at her reddening cheeks.

"What will you do, Lancelot," she asked, ignoring his sneering laugh. Before he could speak, her quick tongue interrupted, "May I conjure a guess?"

"I suppose so," he replied, eyeing her curiously.

"Well," she said slowly as she stared blankly into the distance, "I presume you will make yourself in the company of Gawain's new wife, first off. She will be innocently intrigued and surprisingly drawn to your charms, unknowing of the scorpion that you truly are," she sneered at him here, "Gawain will be kept busy by his many children, some of which hold a remarkable resemblance to their 'Uncle Lancelot'. The poor Sarmatian wench will then allow herself to be twisted into a concubine which you will find very pleasurable, having a different woman for every day of the week. How accurate does this sound to you, Sir Lancelot?"

The knights broke into a riot of laughter, Bors losing his balance slightly, and Lancelot stared at her, completely calm and not, in the least, unnerved. He only reached over to take her hand, which had rested on Latona's neck, and he smiled a devilish smile.

"And may I presume," he said without pausing, "that you will be my Tuesday?"

This time, Bors had to grip his horse's neck in order to stay seated, his laughter, and the laughter of nearly all the other knights, growing by the moment. Gaia's face burned so that she had to put her free hand to her cheek in hopes of hiding it, but it did not work. She jerked her hand free from Lancelot, her eyes narrowing.

"When pigs ride horses." More laughter from the knights. Bors' face was now crimson as he gasped to breath.

"A bad example, Gaia," said Gawain through his fit of laughter, "because Lancelot rides all the time," he added, pointing to the knight.

Now it was Gaia who was nearly unseated with her laughter. If Gawain's words weren't enough, Lancelot's countenance was. He looked completely abashed, unable to retort to his brother-in-arms. He urged his horse forward, shaking his head and laughing at the woman, and when he neared Arthur, he began to speak with him quietly. Gaia turned her attention to Galahad, who had moved up to take Lancelot's place beside her.

"I will be glad to leave this damned island," he said disdainfully as he looked around at the rain-soaked land of Britain. "I've killed enough men to last me a lifetime."

As the knights nodded and murmured their agreements, Gaia pulled Latona's reins, making her drop back a bit as the others continued on. Tristan and Dagonet were riding in silence a ways behind the rest of them, Tristan surveying the skies, looking out for his hawk who was flying just overhead; Dagonet was staring blankly into the distance, his face expressionless. Latona jerked her head, unhappy about leaving the party, and Gaia laid a soothing hand to her neck, talking comfortingly to her.

"You all right?" asked Tristan as his nearly-black stallion caught up with Latona, who whinnied loudly at the sight of a companion. Gaia nodded her head and continued to stroke the chestnut neck of her mare..

"I will be," she said with a small smile. "The shock of seeing that Roman in the bishop's carriage." She shook her head and closed her eyes, trying to force the image from her mind.

Tristan let out a small chuckle and shook his head. "You," he said disbelievingly, "you've seen your own brother die, watched a man kill himself in front of you; hell, you were tortured and beaten, yourself! And you were disturbed by _that_?"

"I was _prepared_ to see those things, Tristan," she said wearily. She shook her head subconsciously as the memories arose in her head; memories of her half-brother, Heundt, whom Tristan had killed whilst scouting; memories of Raenus, the Woad scout who had sealed his own fate by suicidally plunging his own blade into his stomach during a battle with Gaia. All she had sought was to avenge Lancelot who had been wounded by Raenus, but she was robbed of it.

"I apologize," said Tristan in a consoling tone as he watched her shake the memories away. "I should not have spoken of it."

"It's of no consequence," Gaia replied, managing a small smile and waving a dismissive hand to Tristan's sincerity. She looked up to see Tristan's hawk as it swooped down to land on Tristan's arm. He stroked the bird's throat and spoke softly to it. Gaia turned in her saddle to see Dagonet riding behind her, still staring thoughtfully ahead.

"Everything alright, Dag?" she asked with a smile to the knight. He nodded his head, allowing himself a small smile at the young girl.

"Aye," he mumbled nearly incoherently.

Gaia nodded, not expecting anything more from the introvertive knight, and turned back to Tristan who had raised his arm and let loose his hawk once more.

"Can you believe it," she asked the scout with a secretive smile.

"What?"

"Tristan," she said as her smile grew, "You're free."

"Not until I have the papers."

"Lord, Tristan," Gaia sighed as she scoffed at the pessimistic man next to her. "Do you never show optimism? This is _it_. The end of your perilous journey! You've been through so much!" She sighed again, thinking of the past year she had spent fighting against her father's people alongside the six knights and their Roman commander. "To think what I have done for a year, you have been doing for _fifteen_!"

"It's not over until I have the papers," Tristan reiterated.

Gaia only gaped at him. "There!" She shrieked as she pointed to the fortress gaits, "What more do you need?"

Tristan only shook his head, doubtful of the Roman Bishop and his many serfs. He ignored the anxieties that welled inside him, and turned his attention to the other knights as they entered the gates.

As they all dismounted, Arthur motioned to the knights to join him in the main quarters, handing off his horse to his esquire, Jols.

"Kept these boys safe, Gaia?" asked Jols as he walked past her.

"Always do," she said happily as she dismounted and began to follow the esquire. She was stopped by a hand on her shoulder and she turned to see the Roman commander himself.

"Do you feel like disobeying my orders?" he asked with a smile.

Gaia threw him a questioning look before speaking. "I only assumed that I was not welcome," she said uncertainly. "I'm aware of the bishop's disdain for me and I do not want to provoke-"

"You are as much a knight as any of them, Gaia," he said seriously, taking Latona's reins and handing them to a passing squire.

Gaia mumbled a "Thank you" to him as she followed him into the fort.

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_**A/N:** Well, this was a pretty uneventful chapter, unless you consider the constant blushing from Gaia as an event. haha.It's nice to have a lighter chapter every now and again, isn't it? Hope you enjoyed it!_


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N:** I have returned with another chapter! I wrote this one, and the next few, a long while ago, and since then I've played with them here and there, so I hope they're ok. Anyway, onward!_

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Upon entering the hallways of the great fort, Gaia felt the warmth that always rushed through her when she felt the hard stone of the floor upon her feet. The fort brought back wonderful memories of the caring and sincerity she had received from the knights, mainly Arthur, when she was first brought here. Before Tristan had found her on the outskirts of the woods, and Arthur had brought her to the fort, she had never been inside a building of any kind. Her father's people, the Woads, lived their lives outside, using the land to their full advantage. She frowned at thinking of the wizard Woad leader that was her father, but smiled as she heard the knights talking.

"Be sure to tell the Bishop, Arthur," said Lancelot in a mocking voice, "that he must not carry on the ceremony as Romans do. Bors won't be able to understand; one must speak to him in a _certain_ way."

"Yes," Gaia said, trying hard to keep from laughing, "slowly and with as small of words as possible; four letters at most."

The knights erupted into a mass of laughter and jeers, Bors joining in as well, unabashed by their mocking. They continued to speak in a jocund fashion as they walked through the halls and towards the great room. Gaia smiled inwardly when they entered the large room and she beheld the incredible round table set in the middle. On the table was beautiful gold dinnerware, brightly polished and perfectly set. Maids were dashing around the room in silence, preparing food with haste. The men took their seats; Arthur sitting at the seat furthest from the doors and closest to the large windows that seemed to fill the entire northern wall. Gaia sat to Arthur's right, and Bishop Germanus would be sitting to his left. To Gaia's right was Tristan, then Lancelot, Gawain, Galahad, Bors, and Dagonet. The table had once been filled with a plethora of knights, therefore the remaining eight soldiers had plenty of room to space themselves out. A pregnant woman with fiery red hair was busying herself with the wine and she winked to Gaia as she filled her chalice. Gaia smiled at Vanora, the mother of Bors' eleven-soon-to-be-twelve children, and stifled a laugh as Bors called to her to refill his goblet already.

"What a pair they make," Gaia whispered over her chalice to Tristan. "Both so incredibly in love, both unable to admit it." Tristan allowed a chuckle at her words.

"Never really thought of Bors being in love," he muttered back to her as they watched the man yelling at his wife as she hollering back. "More like on a death wish." It was Gaia's turn to chuckle, now.

"Indeed," she murmured.

The knights turned their attention as the doors of the great room opened again and Bishop Gnaeus Germanus entered, conceited and haughty as he always was. Gaia scoffed loud enough for Tristan to turn a raised eyebrow to her.

"Something wrong?" he asked with a knowing smile.

"If murdering your own men is not something, then no." She managed a small smile, trying to forget the horrific image of the Bishop decoy in the brougham, and took a sip of the wine from her chalice. Her smile widened as the liquid slid down her throat, burning as it went, the taste of the berries left on her tongue. Plates were now being loaded by maids with meats, fruits, and vegetables and the Bishop, much to the dismay of the pagan knights, asked for silence as he stood and extended his hands, bowing his head in prayer. Gaia bowed her own head and ignored the rather loud sigh from Lancelot. She made a mental note to smack him upside the head later on.

"On such an occasion as this," Germanus began, "we think naught of the trials we have been through in the past, but the memories that we were graced with. We thank the Almighty Lord God for such memories and we hope that we might someday find new ones of such gravity and splendor. On this day," he continued, and Gaia heard the distinct sound of dinnerware, immediately assuming that Lancelot had started eating, continuing his obstinacy to change his views, "We think of how we have fought and continue to fight," a few grunts ensued from the knights as the bishop used the word "we". Arthur was the only one of them to remain respectful to the bishop, and no one understood why. Gaia tried her best not to think of her ill feelings towards the bishop during this time of prayer. "And so, we ask the Holy Father to bless this food and bless this sacred day," Germanus finished, "Amen."

"Amen," repeated Gaia and Arthur in whispers. The rest of them simply nodded their heads and began to eat. Gaia had long since ceased attempting to make these men understand her passion for Christianity and the righteousness of it, respecting their beliefs and they respecting hers.

The meal went on in respectful silence, none of the knights wishing to speak to Germanus. Arthur conversed with the bishop, and Gaia occasionally spoke, but not often. The bishop did not approve of her from the moment Arthur had taken her in, though Gaia had foolishly considered him a decent Christian man despite it. Again, the image of the bishop's decoy flashed in her head and she shook it slightly, unnerved.

"Ack!" she muttered in frustration as she put her fork and knife down with a clank.

"Gaia," Arthur questioned concernedly, interrupting the bishop to turn to the girl.

"Apologies, Arthur," she murmured as she pushed the plate away from her. "I seem to have lost my appetite."

"Are you ill?" He set his own fork down in concern.

"No," she muttered. Arthur did not remove his questioning gaze, but stood up and offered her his hand.

"Let us take you to Doctor Mancomn," he said quickly. Gaia sighed and shook her head, imploringly.

"No, no," she said impatiently, "there's nothing he can do, I assure you. It is my own troubles," she added. Arthur sighed as he sat back in his seat and took a drain from his chalice.

"I suppose I can't take care of you forever," he said with a nod.

Noting that the knights had all finished their meals, Bishop Germanus spoke to them with as much kindness as could be given by himself to these pagan men.

"I wish, now, to speak with your commander in private," he said with a false smile. The knights were unabashed and slowly rose from their seats.

---

"Let the Romans be Romans," Lancelot muttered once they were outside of the large doors. "There should be a ceremony for the trimming of his beard, I assume."

"Do you disdain him because he is Roman, Lancelot," asked Gaia innocently, "or because he is Christian?"

"Neither are held in high regard, here," Gawain said softly, "you know that, Gaia."

"And do I hold this against you," she asked seriously, evidently wanting a truthful answer.

Lancelot was the first to speak. "You respect our decisions, Gaia," he said warmly, but his tone grew colder as he continued, "though you are unlike most Christians. Perhaps it's the Briton in you."

"Do not form prejudice, Lancelot," Gaia returned with a small frown. "I believe my behavior is that of typical Christians. It is these men who are unworthy of the title." Her frown grew as she thought of the whimpering and ill-treated secretary, the inevitable image of the decoy consuming her as well. Bors's words broke her reverie.

"Aye, the bastards," he muttered. "I'm surprised old Germanus can talk with his head so far up his-"

"Enough," Tristan whispered softly into her ear as he took her hand in his, cleverly drowning her hearing for the moment while Bors's profanity resounded on the stone walls, "to the pub with you, now."

"I thought you would not celebrate unless you held the papers in your hand," she said with an attempt at jocosity.

Tristan held up his left hand which was intertwined with Gaia's. "I hold something far more worth celebrating," he said with a wink. Gaia's face grew pink at his words, her famous blush arising and she again heard the jeers of her brothers as they mocked her and her pale complexion. She only smiled and laughed alongside them.

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_**A/N:** Aww. Sweet. A short chapter, yes, but that's how it goes, I guess. I'm going to cut out Arthur and Germanus's scene, I don't really know why. But, we'll see what effect Gaia has on the knights when the time comes for them to leave.. Thanks so much for the reviews, you guys are awesome!_


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N:** My goodness, it's been a while since my last update. I sincerely appologize for that. Well, I have myself a good ways into the tale, and I think it's coming along well. I hope everyone's enjoying it, and thanks to those who reviewed the first few chapters. You guys are what keeps me going!_

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Mass pandemonium ensued at the pub when the knights had downed their drinks, the numbness of intoxication consuming them. Gawain sat with a barmaid on his lap, clearly enthralled by her lips and nothing else; Galahad threw knives in target practice, though he missed his mark considerably as the overdose of drink caught up with him; Bors and Dagonet conversed at the bar, speaking of the lives they would leave after retrieving their release papers; Lancelot played a vivacious game of gambling with some esquires at a small table; and Tristan sat with Gaia at a table slightly away from the raucous.

"They are something," Gaia muttered as she watched the men with curiosity.

Tristan was silent, staring at something Gaia could not see because Galahad was standing in the path of her visage. When he moved, Gaia raised an eyebrow as she beheld Arthur standing in silence, his face ashen and fearful. Clearly, something had gone awry with the bishop.

"What do you suppose..." Gaia's voice trailed as she watched Arthur with curiosity. Tristan only turned an "I-told-you-so" expression upon her before rising from the small table and walking slowly and discretely to his commander.

"Arthur," cried Jols as he saw the grief-stricken face of the man. The other knights turned their attention to the man, their riotous celebration coming to an immediate halt.

Gaia rose from her seat, but did not walk to the commander. In stead, she watched as the others approached him with curious glances. Slowly, she walked to a corner that was somewhat dark, her fears grasping at her mind. She stroked the pendant of her Woad necklace which she had once lost and Tristan had returned to her.

"Knights," Arthur began wearily, and Gaia held her breath in anticipation, "We soon embark on Rome's final mission."

Gaia felt the breath escape her lungs, and tears ran down her face. How could Tristan have known something like this could-or would-happen? She watched the other knights who were frowning uncertainly, Tristan's face was, however, unmoved.

"Final mission," Lancelot finally questioned, a vein in his neck twitching slightly in anger.

"There is a family," Arthur continued emotionlessly, "to the north: the Roman estate of Senator Marius Honorius. His son, Alecto, is the Pope's godchild, and in grave danger of Saxons approaching from the-."

"The north," repeated Gawain incredulously, "that is Woad territory, Arthur, we have not yet ventured, and there's little chance of us returning alive."

Arthur's face was expressionless as the knights around him began to raise their voices in disapproval. He only watched them all with a set face, whilst Gaia wept unnoticed in the distance.

"And what happens if we don't go through with any of this?" muttered Bors. "What happens if we choose to tell Rome to stuff their holy asses?" His voice rose violently as he shook his fist in rage, ignoring the bottle he held.

"You will not receive your discharge papers." Arthur barely whispered the words.

Gaia watched as the men tensed and Lancelot's twitching vein turned into an entire expression of lividity that crept through his beautiful face. Tears were easily cascading down Gaia's face, but silently. The knights had seemingly forgotten about her in their current moment, and she was content watching the horror from the side. She let out a rather loud gasp when Bors' voice grew into a violent roar:

"Every knight here has risked their life for Rome, and now they send us to our death!" He turned and walked to the bar, but stopped as he noticed the sobbing Gaia, and his face warmed. She did not meet his gaze, but stared down at her Woad necklace, frightened and unnerved.

"If you're frightened of the Saxons," she heard Tristan say smoothly, but she did not raise her eyes from the floor, "stay here."

Bors roared out several profanities, and Gaia let out another whelp of fear, "I'm not afraid of anything! I've got things worth living for!" He was so close to Tristan now, threatening him, but the scout did not bat an eye.

"A noble death in battle," Tristan said smoothly; "_that_ is worth living for."

"What have we fought for all these years," Dagonet asked, his deep, strong voice rising swiftly. "We have not fought for Rome in our hearts, that is evident. We have fought for Arthur and for home. Now, when Arthur is faced with a challenge, will we disdain him? Once more, for Arthur," he said, turning to look each knight in the eye, "for home."

There was a long silence in which Gaia still stared at the necklace, her eyes half closed in an attempt to force the tears away, but they broke through. She was suddenly aware of someone standing in front of her and allowed her eyes to travel to Bors. His face was kind and soft, neither were traits she had seen so bluntly upon his face, and he grasped her shoulder gently in silent apology for frightening her. She managed a small smile and looked down again as more tears came.

When there was no immediate answer from the knights, Dagonet nodded and moved away. "I'll prepare." He walked away, throwing a questioning glance to Bors who nodded in affirmation.

Feeling that the path was set, Tristan nodded to Arthur and turned, slowly making his way to Gaia. She swatted at the tears on her cheeks as he neared her, but he ignored them, taking her chin in his hand and forcing her to look into his eyes, which were remarkably soft.

"Stay here," he whispered. She immediately shook her head, closing her eyes again.

"No," was all she could mutter.

He scoffed lightly as he planted a discrete kiss on her cheek. "Fine, then." She smiled a small smile, but did not raise her eyes again, and Tristan understood that she was still shocked by the entirety of the situation, so he made his way back to their table, grabbing another ale as he went.

"I am with you," Gaia heard Gawain say to his Roman commander. "Galahad as well."

There was a loud crash and Gaia's eyes shot up to see an ale pitcher in shambles at Arthur's feet. Galahad and Lancelot were stalking away, and Gaia knew it was Galahad who had throne the drink at his commander's feet. As Arthur and Gawain stood in shock, Gaia walked quietly to them, kneeling down to pick up the pieces with caution.

"Forgive him, Arthur," she whispered as her tears began to dry, "He is more full of drink than Bors, and that's saying a lot."

Gawain kneeled to help the ex-Woad pick up the broken shards of the ceramic pitcher, but Arthur turned and made his way to the barn. Gaia watched him with sadness, a feeling of helplessness consuming her. She and Gawain rose, throwing the shards into an empty barrel behind the bar.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," Gawain said softly as he smiled slightly to the young girl, "I'm off to kill that bastard, Galahad."

If he hadn't smiled, Gaia would have taken Gawain's threat seriously, but she watched with little concern as he approached the young knight on another side of the pub, grabbing him by the neck of his tunic and slamming him into the wall.

"What the _hell_ is your problem," Galahad screamed as Gawain pinned him a good foot above the floor.

"You're drunk," Gawain said pointedly, "you're a fool, and you just treated our commander with as ill a manner as possible. I don't know which infuriates me most."

* * *

_**A/N:** Heh. Some slight petulant behavior from our dear Galahad. And how it's repremanded by Gawain. I have to be honest, I don't understand their relationship in the film. It seems like they're meant to be related in some way, and yet according to Arthurian legend, Galahad was Lancelot's and Elaine's bastard son, and Gawain was the son of King Lot. So, I don't know what they were playing at in the film, but I thought they seemed like they were supposed to be related at times. Anybody know?..._


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N:** A very, very short chapter here, so I'll actually be updating twice tonight. Yay! I hope you're all enjoying. I admit I think my last story was better since it was truly original and I'm really picking off of another storyline here, but I promise I'll be straying a bit from the film version..enjoy._

* * *

Gaia made her way through the dark barn towards the stall where Arthur's stallion was kept. She had glanced to the tack room and, noting that his Roman saddle was gone, knew he was preparing his horse. As walked down the aisle, she could hear him speaking, praying.

"Merciful God," he spoke to the dark, "show mercy to the men who do not follow you; my men, these knights.."

She walked forward and banged her knuckles on the door, and Arthur turned to her in surprise.

"This was not your doing, Arthur," she said softly, entering the stall and walking to him, taking his hands in a gentle, sweeping movement. "You have no control of things like this."

"What have I been fighting for," he asked her sternly, his voice cold.

Gaia only stared at the man, surprised that he would ask such a question.

"For the last fifteen years," he goaded, fury rising in his tone, "why have I fought here?"

"Arthur," she said uncertainly as she looked around the stall for guidance, but to no avail.

"If you know, then by all means, tell me!" She trembled slightly as his voice shook with rage.

"You fight for a better world for the men who serve you. These knights will follow you, Arthur, they love you. And, quite frankly, if I knew nothing else about you, that would suffice. You are a great man, and you will be rewarded for your suffering, rewarded by the safety of these men through this journey."

There was a silence in which Arthur seemed somewhat satisfied by Gaia's words. They spent several minutes praying together before there was another voice in the dark.

"Why do you talk to someone who is not visible?" Arthur and Gaia spun to see Lancelot standing in the doorway of the stall, his expression somewhat lightened but still lucid with anger. "You might as well be talking to air."

Gaia silently stepped away from Arthur and made to exit the stall, assuming the commander and his knight should be alone, but Lancelot blocked her way, staring at her with a slightly warm gaze.

"What will you do," he whispered to her.

"I will ride with you," she said irritably, thinking he should know the answer. His lips curved into the smallest of smiles and he moved aside to let her pass. As she walked by, he grabbed her wrist, forcing her to halt, and kissed her cheek. When Gaia would normally associate this movement with his drunken brazen, this time, his hand was warm and surprisingly gentle.

"You've lifted his spirits," he whispered in her ear, indicating Arthur with a slight tilt of his head. Gaia smiled at Lancelot, surprised to hear him say such a thing. He released her arm, but she did not immediately move. She only considered Lancelot's words for a moment. Finally, she made her way to the doors, leaving the two men to themselves.

"I couldn't help overhearing," Lancelot said to Arthur once Gaia was gone. "You are still taken with her," he questioned.

"Unlike some, Lancelot, I do not forget an unrequited love so easily," Arthur replied coldly.

Lancelot nodded somberly. "She does not know she hurts you, Arthur. You must tell her."

"And what would that yield," Arthur asked heatedly. "I will only unnerve her."

Lancelot scoffed at this. "You are unhappy either way, Arthur, I can not comfort you, and I'll no longer try to."

Arthur was silent and the tension in the stall was cold, until Lancelot spoke once more.

"I can not say that I know how you feel," he said in a soft tone, "but I can only tell you that, if you keep this inside, it will not only hurt you more, but it will hurt our chances of survival in this hell of a situation."

"What would you have me do, Lancelot?" Arthur's tone was acquiescent and weary.

Lancelot put a hand to the Roman's shoulder. "Talk to her," he goaded in almost a whisper. "Talk to her."

Arthur was silent for a moment as he seemed to fight with his heart and his mind, emotions running amok inside him.

"Tell me that you have faith in this mission."

Arthur placed his hand upon Lancelot's shoulder. "I have faith in you, in Gaia, and in the men. I have faith that your strength and the strength of God will see us through this."

"Then we will return," Lancelot said lightly, "though it'll be a damned wild ride."

* * *

_**A/N:** Short and sweet. And short. haha. Another chapter is on the way. Sorry to have stayed with the same Lancelot/Arthur scene in the stables. It was precious to me, though, and I wanted to keep some form of it in here.._


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N:** I want to take a moment to plug a wonderful King Arthur, TristanOC story. Blood from Ireland is written by La Capitana, a wonderful girl and an extremely talented writer. Blood from Ireland is the sequel to her fantastic first KA fiction, East Meets West. Both are absolute gems and I hope you'll all go visit her stories. You won't be sorry! Now, then, on with the next chapter._

* * *

Day had dawned as the seven men and their British paladin made their way to the north gates of Hadrian's Wall. Jols was awaiting their arrival, a horse of his own prepared. Gaia saw him and smiled a bit, but her smile faded as she saw a second horse and an unexpected rider. Horton.

"What is this," Lancelot asked in confusion as the bishop's secretary mounted his steed.

"Mr. Horton will be accompanying us," Arthur said with a small smile at the look on Lancelot's face. "By order of Bishop Germanus."

"Hallelujah," Bors muttered sarcastically. "I smell fresh blood". The other knights exchanged laughs, but Gaia stared at the secretary with concern.

"He will never make it," she muttered to Tristan as they rode out of the gates. "Be it by a Woad, a Saxon, or his own hand when he gets fed up with Bors, the man'll never make it back alive."

Tristan chuckled at her words, feeling no pity for the man. "It is his duty to the bishop and Rome."

"Look at the poor man," she said sympathetically as she watched the secretary look warily around him. "He's frightened out of his mind."

"Good thing you're here to keep him sober," Tristan said passively as he directed his attention away from the secretary and to his hawk in the sky.

Gaia scoffed at the scout, unnerved by his lack of feeling. They rode in silence for a long moment, each man throwing a last glance back to the fort, wondering if they would return to see it. As they reached the woods, fear lingered in the air. They were in the territory of the Woads; the very people the Sarmatian knights had fought for fifteen years.

Tristan, who was riding ahead, glance back to the young Briton girl, sharing her thoughts as she remembered the last time she had been in these woods north of Hadrian's Wall was when her father, Merlin, had tortured her for being a Christian in his pagan world. Gaia only nodded, precisely turning her head so he did not see the tear that fell from her eye.

"How long must we traverse these grounds," squeaked Horton as he cowered on his horse, fear consuming him.

"Not long, Mister Horton," Gaia replied consolingly, shooting a severe look to Lancelot and Bors just behind her as they stifled their laughter.

"Where do they come from," Horton asked innocently as he stared around in fear.

"From Hell," came Bors's reply. The knights jeered in silence as Gaia's face turned livid.

"The Woads are Briton rebels," Gaia explained quickly, her countenance changing as she spoke to the secretary. "They do not heed to the wishes of Rome, fighting to regain control of their country."

Horton was silent as he gaped open-mouthed at the arboreal surrounding him, each tree holding a terror that there might be a skillful bow hidden inside. Gaia wanted to comfort the frightened secretary; to tell him that he would not be harmed by the people of the wood, but she, herself, did not believe such a thing. She knew the Woads would attack them, she could see it when she looked to Tristan who had one hand on his bow and another discretely holding a sharp arrow. She had also seen Dagonet ready a small crossbow and he now held it poised at his side.

They rode in complete silence, except for the quiet whimpers of Gnaeus Germanus's secretary. With every noise he made, Lancelot smirked evilly, and with every smirk from Lancelot, Gaia threw him a serious look. As Lancelot ignored the British girl, she grew impatient and tried to catch his eye, but he continued to laugh at the secretary, making no notice of Gaia. As Horton shrieked at what turned out to be a bush, Lancelot did not hold in his laughter.

"Lancelot," Gaia said fiercely, her tone cold. He did not acknowledge her. "Lancelot, cease this, now," she attempted, but Bors and Galahad had already joined in the laughter. Gawain, who had been riding next to Galahad, kicked the other knight in the ankle, causing him to stop his laughing and stare coldly at his brother-in-arms, though Bors and Lancelot continued on.

"Bors, Lancelot, _really_!" She turned to her left to shoot another severe look at the men behind her, but they were doubling back with laughter. She looked to Horton who was unabashed, his countenance undisturbed. She opened her mouth to speak again, but was cut off as an arrow flew from a tree to her right, narrowly missing Latona's neck.

The chestnut mare reared and Gaia was nearly unseated. Instinct taking over, she leaned forward, putting all of her weight onto Latona's neck, she managed to pressure the horse forward, and her front hooves landed softly on the ground. As soon as Gaia steadied herself and looked around, she saw that the small Roman calvary was surrounded by blue-dyed men with little clothing and sharp arrows, which were poised on their bows and pulled taught.

Tristan had responded instantly and met the surrounding Woads with his own bow, and Dagonet had raised the crossbow he held secretly by his side, but neither of the knights fired. Each man stared at his enemy as the forest seemed to freeze.

Gaia stared at the man closest to her and noticed it was Aeron, her blood sister Titania's lover. She caught the man's eye and he gave her a look of sorrow, knowing that he must obey Merlin.

Someone in the trees hollered a cry in the Woad tongue, and suddenly, in a rush of movement, the blue men were gone. Gaia now stared at the empty bushes with confusion, and finally looked to the men around her. Horton's face was ashen; white as snow, and Gaia wanted to comfort him, but was so confused, herself, that she knew not what to say.

"It seems Merlin has other plans for us," Arthur said finally. "Let us continue."

Gaia rode forward, leaving Lancelot and Bors to taunt the poor secretary, and paced Latona alongside Tristan's stallion.

"What do you suppose that was," she questioned him in a whisper.

"They've been following us since we entered the wood," Tristan replied cooly. "I cannot say why they let us go."

Gaia stared at the man in confusion. "I don't like this," she said in an even lower voice.

"Do you want to turn back," Tristan asked with raised eyebrows. Gaia caught the humor in his voice and shook her head fervently.

"Not on your life, Sir Tristan," she returned. "I won't be kept out of the adventure."

Tristan smiled a small smile at the girl and nodded slightly. They continued on in silence for a long moment, the eyes of every man looking around warily in hopes of catching a glimpse of blue in the dim light that broke through the trees, but nothing came. They only continued to sift through the invested woods in silence, not trusting a sight.

* * *

Somewhere in the forest, Merlin stood with his advisors, a look of placidness on his face. He stood in patient silence until two young Woad paladin men appeared before him.

"What would you have us do with the men of the citadel, master," asked the tallest one, a violent looking man with the stature of a giant.

"Arthur and his men may be useful in the future, Phoebus," Merlin said softly.

"But, I do not understand," the man called Phoebus said slowly, "_She_ was with them! We could have killed her with one arrow-"

"And angered the rest of the men riding with her," interrupted the other man. It was Aeron, the Woad that Gaia had recognized in the wood. "If it is Merlin's wish that Arthur aide us in the future, she will live." He tried to hide the desperation in his voice as he fought for the young Christian girl who was sister to his love.

"Aeron speaks truthfully, Phoebus," Merlin said sternly. "As much as I disdain my daughter, she will not be harmed by us. Not while the bloodthirsty Saxons run rampant through our country. She will fight for Rome, but she will fight nonetheless, and we will need every ally we can find."

* * *

_**A/N:** An extreme contrast in length, I suppose, from the last chapter. I don't really keep track of the lengths and just hope they end up similar, but now and then I get a short one...oh well. Hope everyone's enjoying. Let me know what you think of my interpretations :)_


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N: **Thanks so much to Ms Genova for clearing the Gawain/Galahad thing up. I don't have the Director's Cut, so I wouldn't have known that. Thanks, midear!_

* * *

In the midst of the dark forest, a young Woad woman, clothed in a simple gown rather than the paladin gear her kin wore, sat on the grassy ground in a small clearing, completely alone and succumbing to the darkness. She did not notice the man approach from behind her. He did not sit, but stood by the trees, watching her intently; adoringly.

"Gaia and the knights make safe passage through the woods," he offered. Titania turned her head slightly to see the man.

"Aeron, I must see her," she said in a whisper. "Take me to her," she pleaded.

He walked to her and knelt by her, looking deeply into her eyes, searching them for a sign of argument. "Do you think it wise," he asked warily.

"No," she returned, "but that wouldn't stop _her_."

Aeron nodded and offered a hand to help the young girl from the ground. She took it and, as they made their way through the forest, the rain began to fall.

* * *

"I hate this island," Gaia heard Gawain yell. The men were gathered around what was once a campfire, now extinguished by the downpour of rain that fell. Gaia had taken advantage of the storm and gone to the privacy of the bushes where she bathed in the water.

"It washes away our trail," Bors hissed in a violent tone.

"I don't think so," Gaia called to him, "they can still smell you from a mile away."

The knights laughed around and murmured agreements, while Bors chuckled slightly as well. Gaia could hear the conversation turn to Bors's eleven children, and she felt her heart sink slightly, thinking of the lovely Vanora and how she may never seen her Bors again.

Pulling her from her reverie was the sound of a branch snapping. Gaia quickly reached for the long tunic that was near her and threw it on. She grabbed a knife from a leg sheath she had not bothered to remove, and looked around her warily.

"Gaia," she heard her name whispered through the air and jumped. Then, she remembered the voice and slowly lowered her knife.

"Titania," she whispered back to the forest. Slowly, the soaked form of her sister appeared before her through the bushes. Gaia felt her heart leap when she saw her safe and unharmed. She quickly grabbed her sister in an embrace. "Titania," she whispered again, her smile broad. "I thought I'd never see you again!"

Titania only returned her sister's hug in silence, allowing the warmth to envelope her. Gaia pulled away and took Titania's hand, leading her to the campfire.

When the knights saw this new woman, clad in the blue dye and a blue gown of the Woad people, they leapt to their feet in uncertainty. Gaia raised a calm hand and they relaxed slightly, but Gaia noticed the hand that did not stray from Gawain's axe. She shuddered inside, thinking that Gawain would have certainly brought the blade down upon a woman.

"Titania," she introduced to the knights, "my sister." She then pointed to each of the knights in turn and introduced them, stopping slightly at Tristan to throw her sister a smile, who returned it with a knowing glint in her eye. When she reached Lancelot, however, she paused again, not understanding why the knight's face seemed so suddenly gentle and caring.

Realizing that this was Lancelot, she immediately wondered what he planned. He would never mix with a Woad, Gaia knew that. She had been the one exception to Lancelot when she had arrived at the fortress of Hadrian's Wall. And the only reason she was an exception, of course, was because he thought of her dismissal of him as a provocation. Dismissing him slightly, she turned her attention back to her sister.

"Merlin had us surrounded," questioned Gaia as she moved to sit next to Tristan, offering for her sister to sit at her other side, "why did he call them back?"

"He foresees you as a future ally," Titania answered, her eyes fixed on Arthur as she directed the comment slightly to the commander. Her eyes quickly swept around the fire, revealing the similar nervousness that Gaia and Titania shared. "The Saxons have ruthlessly swept over the north and, as they descend, we fear they will outnumber us."

"Rome withdraws from Briton," Arthur said softly. Titania still stood, and Arthur as well, though everyone else had sat down. "Your country will be yours once more, as soon as we return from the north with Marius Honorius's son."

"Marius Honorius," Titania recalled, "I know the name. He took hostage a great many of our people, some of Merlin's favorite children. He is a barbarian," she spat.

"How so," questioned Gaia.

Titania moved to sit next to her sister, Arthur on her other side, but she was distracted by Lancelot across the fire. Gaia noticed this and frowned slightly, wanting to slap Lancelot across the face for thinking anything of her own sister, especially when her own sister was devoted to her love, Aeron.

"Aeron speaks ill of the man," Titania said slowly. "He says that he takes serfs, forces them to believe in what he believes in, tortures them with machines if they resist."

"How does Aeron know this," Gaia asked curiously.

"He was ordered to attack the estate a year ago. Not long after you..." she considered her words, not wanting to insult Gaia, or worse, bring back memories. "We lost so many that day," Titania closed her eyes in remembrance, ignoring her previous statement. Beside her, Gaia gave a small smile at her sister's tolerance..

Across the fire, Lancelot frowned. This girl was certainly as beautiful as her older sister, but seemed like such a young child. She had to have been about nineteen, possibly, five years younger than her sister, but she held a remarkable resemblance just the same. Her dark hair was nearly black as it was completely drenched and fell, scattered, around her shoulders and down her back while her brown eyes stared around her with the hint of fright. She was very thin, almost unhealthy looking, and she wrung her hands subconsciously while she stared into the fire. Lancelot noticed that she also wore a pendant much like Gaia's. It was a oval piece of metal with a jade pounded into its core, all on a leather string and tied loosely so it hung just above the neckline of her low dress. The dress was blue, dark but faded, and ripped at the bottom so her bare feet did not trip on the hems. Everything about this girl seemed to mirror her sister, but with a contrasting difference at the same time. Lancelot mused for a moment, wondering what was in their blood that made these girls so enticing to him, but he could not fathom the answer. He only watched her intently, not hearing her words, only seeing her beauty, and feeling his same flirtatiousness tug at his sleeve.

Titania had noticed Lancelot as he watched her and she, unlike her sister, did well to hide her crimson cheeks. Her skin was not so pale, though her insecurities just as fragile, and she was skilled in turning her head at the precise moment so her long locks fell in her discretely face.

After spending nearly an hour with her sister and these knights, she rose and prepared to depart into the woods in search of Aeron. Gaia walked with her to a small clearing in which Aeron was waiting.

Aeron, a remarkably tall man, was clad in dark trousers and flat sandals. The strap of the quiver on his back was all that covered his chest, and this was how the Woads all fought. The paladins wore as little clothing as possible in order to allow as much movement as possible. Aeron's long, black hair fell past his shoulders, mussed and wild looking, and his face was dyed with the blueish green dye that comes from the woad plant, from which the men of the wood received their name. His dark eyes were scanning his surroundings, one hand near his waistline where a sheath held a short blade. When he saw the two women approaching, he smiled and rushed to Gaia.

"Gaia," he whispered as he embraced her, "it is good to see you."

"And you," Gaia returned. "I was pleased to see you are alive after the battle at the fort," she added. "I prayed for you."

Aeron did not disdain the girls for being Christians. He only smiled and nodded in thanks. Wasting no time for fear of being found out by Merlin, Titania and Aeron went back into the deepest depths of the woods while Gaia turned back to the path that led to the fire.

She was surprised when she turned around and saw Lancelot up the path.

"Out for a jaunt," she questioned when she neared him.

"That man," he asked her seriously, looking back at where Aeron had stood, "who was he?"

Gaia noticed the sword that Lancelot had pulled slightly loose of its sheath, and she did her best to comport herself as if it was nothing. "That was Aeron," was all she said.

Lancelot nodded slightly and released his sword, flashing a fake smile to Gaia, which she saw through. She opened her mouth to speak of it, but Lancelot cut across her.

"Do you notice the passion that is so evident in the eyes of our commander," he asked, bitterness hinted in his tone.

"I beg your pardon," was all she could managed as she stopped in her tracks and stared at the curly-haired knight incredulously.

"Arthur," he repeated calmly. "Tell me you are not blind to his obvious affections for you! Perhaps your current felicity with Tristan has overrode it?" Gaia's cheeks were now on fire.

"Lancelot," she said slowly, staring blankly into the distance, "I'm going to tell you something I have not told any other soul."

"Not even Tristan?"

"Not even Tristan," she sighed.

"Well," Lancelot belted with raised eyebrows, "Let's have it, then!"

Gaia shot the knight a look of seriousness, and his levity seemed to wane. "When you found me, beaten and such," she began, "and when I met with all of you last midsummer, I _wanted_ to be with Arthur. I looked into his eyes, and saw that lingering need, and I knew I _wanted_ to love that man." Lancelot's eyebrows returned to their raised position. "And why shouldn't I have loved him," she continued rhetorically, "what faults did he have?"

"I can think of a few," Lancelot murmured, and Gaia slapped him lightly.

"Shush," she hissed, though she could not contain the giggle that arose. "Truly," she continued with all seriousness, "what could have driven me away from him? He is a Roman, aye, and I must say, that is not something I old in high regard, but he is a Christian, he is wealthy - or at least he will be upon his return to Rome. Do know what could have made my love falter?"

"I don't know," Lancelot acquiesced.

"Nor do I. Not to this day," she sighed. "But, I _do_ know something I learnt from my mother some years ago."

"What's that," Lancelot asked quickly. His eyes seemed to hold a certain curiousness that Gaia found uncharacteristically evident.

"We do not choose who we fall in love with," she said simply.

"So," he said uncertainly, "you didn't want to love Tristan, but you did?"

"I suppose so," Gaia said slowly. "No," she added after a moment, "no, that's not it. I did not _plan_ on loving him, Lancelot, but unfortunately, life does not go according to a plan. It just goes to show that you can find love in the most unexpected places." She had, perhaps, held too much of an interrogative tone, for Lancelot's eyes shot upwards like lightning. "You see my meaning," she said wisely, her lips forming the smallest of smiles.

Lancelot remained frowning, his eyes fiery. "Titania?"

"Yes," whispered Gaia with an impatient sigh, "Titania. Do you think I could not see you from my place at the fire, Lancelot?"

Now, a small smile formed on his lips, and slowly the two laughed together. "She is beautiful," Lancelot whispered as they continued to walk back to the camp, "But," he added with a serious tone, "you still did not settle the matter that Arthur still seems to be in love with you."

"I think I settled that once," Gaia said, ignoring his questioning look, "it is now up to Arthur to see it." Lancelot nodded and looked into the distance, and Gaia knew he was thinking, once again, about Titania. Little did she know, however, that while her young sister was walking through the woods in the opposite direction, comforted by the arms of Aeron, her mind was focused on the dark knight as well, and his many charms.

* * *

_**A/N:** I tooolldd you there would be some LancelotOC! But what will ensue with this newfound attraction? And what would Aeron think? -gasp- haha, hope you enjoyed. more to come, and I promise I won't keep you waiting long._


	8. Chapter 8

_**A/N:** This is a very long chapter, but I could not find a "right" place to stop. I think you'll find the ending to be quite an eyebrow-raiser :) Enjoy._

* * *

The stone wall that protected Marius's estate was bland, and not as appealing to Gaia's eyes as the one at Badon Hill. This fortress held no charm, only a cold bitterness and the dark skies that loomed overhead along with the falling snow did little to improve its look. She shivered under her layers of clothing, doing her best to ward off the chill, but failing miserably. No matter how unhappy this place looked, a decent fire sounded wonderful to her, and she was, therefore, disappointed when the guards drew up the gates upon their approach.

"Who are you," questioned a guard from above them in a heavily accented Roman voice.

"I am Arthur Castus," Arthur called back to him. "I am here on behalf of Bishop Gnaeus Germanus of the church of Rome, and the Pope, himself. These men are my Sarmatian knights."

"What of the woman?" There was a depth to the man's tone, and it was accented with an obvious thirst for flesh.

"None of your damn concern," Bors called back defensively. The knights did not jeer the girl when she blushed, but sent her apologetic looks for the Roman guard's brazen.

There was pandemonium in the estate as the news was relayed to Marius, and soon the gates were lowered. The knights made their way inside, but did not dismount. They were greeted by a jovial Marius and his sulking wife and introverted son.

"Thank God you have come," he said happily as he approached them with open arms. "I am Marius Honorius; my wife, Fulciana and my son, Alecto," he introduced as he waved his hand to each of them in turn. "And you are the great Sarmatian knights of the south Wall! Glory be-"

"We are here to escort you to Hadrian's Wall, Master Honorius," Arthur cut across him; "it is vital that you heed this command. Bishop Gnaeus Germanus will meet you-"

"You ask us to leave our home," Marius cut across him in return, while Arthur sighed and dismounted, followed by Gaia and Gawain who flanked him as he walked to the fat Roman who was now red-faced with anger. "You ask me, my family, to leave this place where we have lived for many years? Our hearts are here, Commander, and we will not leave."

"A massive army of Saxons has set down from the north," Arthur blazed, "apparently they hold your son's head in high regard; they're on their way."

There was silence in which time Marius glanced, horror-struck, from Arthur to Gaia and then to Gawain. Fulciana was silent in her husbands shadow, her face unmoving, much like her sons who watched the events from his mother's side.

"God will send salvation," Marius said bluntly. "We will not leave."

"We are such a salvation," Gaia spoke up hotly.

"And you _will_ come," added Gawain, "if I have to carry you."

"Blasphemous," the man cried loudly, causing the workers to stop and stare at their master. "We will not run from our foes, Commander," he said heatedly.

Arthur looked at a loss for words. "Sir," Gaia said sweetly, as she stepped in front of Arthur to face Marius with a bow of her head, "I am not one for violence, as I've seen all sorts in my years, but you must return with us in order for these men to receive safe passage throughout the Roman empire, and I intend to see that happen." Marius only stared at her in disbelief. "Alright," she said, her tone losing its sweetness, "you see that man," she pointed to Bors. Marius nodded. "You will do well to return with us, or at least your son, Alecto, or I will be forced to let loose that man on your property."

Marius stared at her incredulously while Gawain turned to look at Bors with a silent laugh; a soft series of laughs echoed through the other knights. "Who are you, wench, to threaten me?" Marius roared, his voice baritone and ringing with anger as he stepped forward so he was as close to her as possible, his countenance showing every bit of the disgust he must have felt.

"Marius!" Arthur bellowed, grabbing Gaia's wrists and drawing her behind him in a defensive manner, "You will not speak to the lady in such a tone! She is a member of my command, and she may speak freely." There was a slight pause in which Marius stared at Arthur with disdain, and Gaia's own eyes widened at Arthur's words as she stared at the back of his cuirass. "Now," Arthur continued, his voice falling to its normal level, "You _will_ return with us to Hadrian's Wall, if only for the security of your son. I ask only that you appease, and we will take you to safe grounds."

When Marius finally began to look less obstinate, Gaia whispered, "Pray make haste, Sir!"

Gaia's words held an urgency that seemed to push Marius to his decision . "See to the preparations, Fulciana" was all he said as he stalked away.

Arthur watched the man walk off with a gleam in his eye.

"Tristan," Arthur called to his scout, who rode to his side swiftly, "ride ahead, seek a route for us." Tristan nodded silently and turned to ride, but not before shooting a final look of encouragement to Gaia, who was now mounting Latona once more.

After ordering his knights to help in the assistance of the preparations, Arthur noticed a stone building in the distance and wondered about it for a moment before walking hastily to it. Gaia shot a look to Dagonet, who was the only one aside from herself not to be ordered a task. Dagonet only returned the curious look and they both rode, slowly, after their commander.

Nearing the building, Arthur called to a serf nearby. He was a thin man, too thin, Gaia thought, with black hair that was short as could be and dark eyes which held a spark despite his obvious turmoil.

"You," Arthur questioned.

"Ganus, Sir," the man replied.

"Ganus," Arthur said lightly, "What is this place?"

The man hesitated.

"Speak," Dagonet said forcefully, making the little man jump slightly.

"It houses prisoners," he said with contempt. "Marius tortures them because they're pagans and they refuse to serve him." His voice, then, rose severely as he continued. "I've worked here ten years with not so much as a loaf of bread and a flask! Workers have died for him, is it truly a sin to defy him?"

Arthur's eyes flashed with an anger Gaia had not seen before, and it frightened her. He dismounted his horse and walked to the man called Ganus, looking livid. Ganus backed nervously, eyeing Excalibur with terror.

"Arthur," Gaia tried to calm the man, but he did not listen. She dismounted, and Dagonet did the same, flanking their commander with concern in their eyes.

Ganus tripped and fell backwards, and Excalibur was soon at his throat. He did not plead for life, but stared into the fire stricken eyes of Arthur with fear.

"Arthur, stop this," Gaia tried again, "It is not his fault he's been blinded so."

"You," Arthur said sternly, ignoring the words of the British girl, "you were free from your first moment on this great earth, and you have every right in the world to defy your lord, Marius, for he is not the Lord God and he is not a servant of the Lord God. He is a pitiful excuse for a human, hiding in the form of a Christian man." He removed his sword from the man's throat and walked to the building.

Gaia instantly rushed to Ganus's side, feeling pity for the young man. She laid down her sword as she kneeled next to him, but her eyes lifted as she studied Arthur. Never had she seen such malevolence, such distinct hatred in the man. He had clearly attracted attention, as Bors and Lancelot had now ridden over and Gawain was coming from the distance.

"It's locked from the inside," Arthur murmured as he studied the door. "Dagonet," he ordered, and the knight need no more goading. He swiftly brought his axe down several times upon the wall before it burst, shattering into thousands upon thousands of pieces.

Arthur went inside first, and Dagonet followed. Lancelot, Gawain, and Bors were quickly off their horses and entering the building, as well. Gaia only watched in horror as they walked into, what she perceived to be a complete death chamber.

Galahad was busy with preparations, as was Jols, and Horton stood near Gaia, not moving in his fear. After a while, Tristan had returned and he rode to the kneeling Gaia's side, looking down on her in confusion. She looked up into his dark eyes and found comfort in them. Inside, she longed for the scout to dismount from his horse and take her in his arms, but he was a knight, first and foremost, and she knew he had to be strong, as did she, at times like this.

Tristan watched the young girl, feeling emotions swell inside of him that he had never felt before. He wanted to hold her, he wanted to warm her from the chill of winter, to block the fears that were so inevitably consuming her. He wanted to promise her that there were no people in these building that had been tortured like she had. However, this was not true, as most of the buildings inhabitants were nearer to death than even Gaia had been when he found her, and he knew this would be a frightening thing for her to witness.

After what seemed like ages, Arthur emerged from the building carrying a young woman. He called for water quickly and Horton was swift to comply. Dagonet emerged shortly after Arthur with a small boy, no more than nine years old, and the other knights came out with a priest, Lancelot and Gawain each holding an arm while he struggled to get free. They threw him to the ground and Gaia felt her heart beat wildly, feeling pity for the man that they treated so horribly.

Tristan had wandered to Arthur and looked down on the woman with distaste. "She's a Woad."

Gaia had mounted Latona once more and road to Tristan's side, staring softly at the young girl. When she saw the girl's face, however, her expression grew grim. "She is Guinevere," Gaia muttered.

"You know her," Arthur questioned, goading her.

"Yes," Gaia spat. "She is the daughter of Merlin; my half-sister."

"Don't sound so pleased," Tristan murmured sarcastically as Arthur turned his attention to Marius, who was now stalking up the walk.

"You don't know Guinevere," Gaia returned. "Fortunately for you."

Tristan chuckled and turned his horse away from the girl as Marius's wife began to tend to her. Gaia followed the scout, and they made their way to Dagonet and the little boy.

"Where is his family," Horton asked to no one in particular.

"Most likely dead," answered Tristan as he looked at the boy.

"He is of the Woads, too, I wonder," asked the Secretary.

"Doesn't seem to be," Tristan muttered as he watched the frightened boy. "But I wouldn't bet against it."

"He does not look so worse for the wear as my sister," Gaia said softly as she watched Dagonet tend to the child, "though, his arm seems to be broken, aye?"

Dagonet nodded the affirmative. Gaia slowly let her eyes behold the horrific place from which these men had emerged and sighed. "My God," she whispered, "what is this place?"

"Your God does not live hear," Gawain muttered from behind her mare and she turned in the large Roman saddle to meet his lightless eyes. "They claim to be Christians," he continued, "yet they tortured pagans in that hell."

Gaia felt her breath catch and Gawain had clearly noticed, for he suddenly avoided her gaze and walked away. The entire situation was terrifying to even the hardest of hearts, and those who had ventured to the dungeon fought to vomit from the sights and smells they had sensed. Lancelot looked to the Briton girl with concern, knowing well how light her heart was, and how fragile. She noticed his gaze, but was in no mood to discuss her feelings, and turned Latona away from the sights.

She rode to the gates and saw that the preparations were underway, but could not stomach the sights or smells of this dreadful estate any longer. She exited the gates and walked along the main wall while Latona snorted and pawed, anxious to continue on. She patted the mare on the neck and fingered her mane gently as she lost herself in thought.

After a time, Tristan emerged from the gates, a look of complete concern on his face as he saw the girl. Gaia was surprised at him to show such emotion, but managed a smile nonetheless.

"Are you alright," he asked in an uncharacteristically concerned voice, "I know that was hard for you."

"I have to learn to overrun my fears, no longer succumb to them," she replied flatly. "But, did you see the boy?" She gave a visible shudder and a single tear fell from her eye. "How dark and cold this world has shown itself to be. I have seen battles, yes, but this cruel, violent behavior inflicted upon those so undeserving as that boy; as the bishop's decoy? I never wish to have anything to do with Rome ever again."

Tristan nodded silently and reached over to rest a hand upon hers. "I hate to see you grieve," he said passionately, making Gaia raise her eyes to him in surprise.

He spoke comfortingly, but the words were lost on her. She only heard a buzzing and a droning as images of tortured bodies and reeking corpses flashed in her mind. Of course, having not seen the horrific sight herself, her stomach turned over as she realized these images were uncomparable to the brutality that was hidden behind those stone walls.

* * *

The caravan of Saxons had been cutting off several routes, and the only passage Tristan had been able to find was to the east, so to the east they went. The group now consisted of a carriage holding Alecto and Marius, and another with Guinevere, the boy, and Marius's wife, who was attending to them. Countless other serfs, guards, and servants walked or rode on horseback. Gaia often allowed Ganus to ride Latona while she walked for a bit, staying a distance from the carriage that held her sister.

It was when she was walking the second time that Arthur approached her.

"I've come from seeing your sister," he said softly. "You should see her. She needs someone."

"I hold no compassion for her," Gaia said roughly.

"Why not," Arthur goaded.

Gaia released a sigh and turned to look at the commander as he rode on horseback. "She was the lead of the party who tortured me."

* * *

_**A/N:** This was not meant to be a blow to Guinevere fans, as I'm a Guinevere fan myself. I promise Guinevere will not be a bad person. She may have some rough moments with Gaia, or they may become fast friends. Who knows? Actually, I do, as I'm writing the story, but I'll let you all find out for youself very soon. Thanks so much for the reviews, people, they mean a lot!_


	9. Chapter 9

_**A/N:** Another update! Annie said she like the Tristan/Gaia in the last chapter...I think you'll find some more in this one. Not much, but a nice little bit. Tristan's got a good, strong shoulder to cry on..._

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Gaia gently slid the canopy aside as she entered the wagon that held Guinevere and the young boy who had come to be known as Lucan. When she stepped inside, the cold of the British summer left her and she was enveloped with a warmth that she did not entirely enjoy. It was a filthy warmth, full of sickness and disease. It felt to Gaia that with every breath, she was digging herself into her grave.

She covered her mouth for a moment when she entered, taken aback, by the stench, but stiffened and walked to the girl huddled in the corner. She kneeled down beside her, and Guinevere turned her eyes upon her sister.

Gaia stifled a gasp when she beheld Guinevere, it was as if she was looking upon her self the past midsummer. Ironic though it was, that Guinevere had been the cause of Gaia's hurt and Gaia was fighting for those that were the cause for Guinevere's, she pushed the thoughts of Romans versus Britons, Sarmatians and Woads, all from her mind and focused only on her pained sister.

"Guinevere," she whispered to her sister. Guinevere responded by reaching up with her worn hand and touching Gaia's cheek lightly.

"You live," Guinevere croaked. Her lips were quivering, chapped and worn, as she managed the words.

_You now feel my pain and suffering_, Gaia thought, but kept her disdain hidden. "Yes," she replied in an equal whisper.

"The Romans," Guinevere continued, and Gaia strained to hear her words, "the Romans tortured me." She spat the words, her face angered.

"The Romans also saved your life," Gaia said sternly, taking her sister's hand. "Arthur Castus is my Roman commander. I fight for him."

Guinevere's lips seemed to settle into a frown. "You," she said with a violent tone. "You dishonor Merlin."

Gaia felt herself tense at Guinevere's words and frowned slightly. She rose from her sister's side and walked silently out of the carriage. The caravan had been stopped for the night and the six knights sat around a large campfire with their Roman commander. Gaia noticed Jols, Ganus, and Horton were all seated as well.

She walked to where Tristan was and sat down next to him in silence. He sensed her unease and he placed an arm around her shoulders, a move of endearment not often preformed by the scout. She accepted, however, and rested her head on his chest with a sigh of frustration which she could not hold in.

"I cannot forgive her," she whispered into Tristan's tunic. He sighed slightly, and she knew he was at a loss for words. He only held her in silence for a long moment before he finally spoke.

"If Arthur had not overlooked your past, Gaia, you would be dead," he said bluntly. Gaia raised her head to look at the man with a frown. His eyes danced behind his dark hair which flew around him in an untamed nature.

"I did not try to kill Arthur," she returned. Then, with a feeling much like someone striking her across the face, she realized she _had_ in fact tried to kill Arthur. Not her personally, but her people; and at the time when Arthur found her, he had no inclination as to who she _really_ was: a Christian like himself, and innocent for the most part. She released a sigh of understanding and Tristan chuckled. "Well, this is different," Gaia said defensively. "I want to forgive her, but I still see her face and hear her words. It was hell."

"I know," Tristan muttered softly. "But maybe she needs the comfort of someone whose been in that hell, for she surely is in it now, she surely _was_ in it."

Gaia saw Arthur rise from across the fire and he made his way to the carriage that held Guinevere. She stared at him in surprise for a long moment before turning to Tristan with raised eyebrows.

"Let him be her comfort," she said irritably. "He seems to have taken a liking to her."

Tristan allowed himself to laugh and his eyes seemed to grow lucid. "Does it bother you that Arthur may soon find love again," he asked playfully.

"Of course not," Gaia replied as she swatted a hand at him. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her in for a kiss. She thought it did not bother her that Arthur seemed to treat this girl like he had treated herself, but she could not ignore the feeling in the pit of her stomach that seemed like jealousy.

* * *

Lancelot watched as Gaia emerged from the carriage and sat beside Tristan. He ignored the burning of his heart when he saw them together, and turned his attention to Arthur. The Roman seemed distant. His thoughts seemed to consume him as they always did, but now more than ever. Lancelot had heard him talking to the Woad named Guinevere. He had heard Arthur speaking softly to her and heard how he had to reposition the girl's fingers. He had also heard Gaia say that this girl had been the head in torturing her, but it did not make him disdain her. He still felt a certain attraction to her, and it was not the sort of attraction he felt towards the bar maids back at the fort, it was a deeper interest. Much like he had first felt for Gaia, but he vowed never to let the girl know how deep his caring for her truly was. His pride and reputation were precious things to Lancelot, forever until the day he died.

However, as much as his mind was curious about the Woad Guinevere, his thoughts centered on Gaia's full sister. As he watched Titania the night in the woods, he noticed her beautiful eyes. He couldn't escape them. He could easily distract himself from a woman's charms, normally, but she had done something to him, much like Gaia had done and much like Guinevere seemed capable of doing. _It must be in their blood_, he mused, _these fiery daughters of Merlin_.

This, however, did not comfort him. And, when he would close his eyes and see Titania, it did little to ease his mind. He was haunted by her, he thought. This was unlike him, he knew, and it was certainly a surprise that, of all woman, a Woad would be the one to arouse such emotions. Gaia had certainly provoked a feeling of love inside him, but it seemed to not compare to the feeling he felt for Titania, this Woad he did not even know. All he was aware of was the desire that ignited inside him, the desire to run through the woods and search for the lady. And then there was Guinevere...

* * *

Arthur entered the carriage quietly. He saw the girl in the corner and walked to her. She seemed cold. He took his crimson cape from his back and offered it to her gently. She seemed to nod, and he draped it over her shoulders, which were bony and thin. She grabbed it instantly and wrapped it tighter around herself, a look of pleasantness washing over her.

"I hear you've seen your sister," he said in a whisper. She turned her dark eyes upon him and her lips curved downwards into a frown.

"Arthur," she whispered, and he nodded in affirmation. "You are a Roman," she questioned in a croaking voice.

"Half Roman, half Briton," he said sternly as he made a point of keeping eye contact with the young woman. "I will see to it that no harm is brought to you." She seemed to lighten under his gaze and slowly nodded her head.

"Gaia-" she began as she stared at the man with a hint of content, but Arthur interrupted her immediately.

"She was unhappy," he said quietly, "what did you say to her?"

"She dishonors Merlin," Guinevere replied coldly, "by fighting for you, she dishonors our father."

"Did you not think that she belongs where she is? You knew she was a Christian, for it was you who was charged with the task of torturing her."

Guinevere looked like she had been suddenly slapped across the face. She thought for a long moment in silence as the remembrance of the events that had taken place in midsummer past seemed to hit her like a brick. A year ago, she had been sent by her father to kill her own sister, and in the slowest, most agonizing ways possible, but afterwards, there had been a raid planned on the estate of Marius, and she had been captured, and tortured herself, forgetting the cruelty she had inflicted upon her younger sister.

"I," she began uncertainly, her face crimson, "I have been worn," she managed finally, "and I forget my past...until now."

Arthur nodded in understanding. "Would you like for me to see her back in," he asked quietly.

"No" Guinevere said with a small smile, "I should be better suited speaking with her on the morrow, perhaps I shall give her some time to forgive me."

Arthur frowned slightly at this, but nodded. "If you want it," he said with a sigh and prepared to leave, but Guinevere reached a hand to his cheek before he could move far.

"You saved me," she said in a whisper. He nodded slightly. "Thank you," she murmured, and Arthur's heart seemed to burn and freeze all at once at the admiration in her eyes, something he had not seen in what seemed like a lifetime.

* * *

_**A/N:** Poor Arthur, he doesn't seem to know what to think. And I had to add that reflecting Lancelot scene, it just seemed to fit. The end of this chapter could have been a bit abrupt. I think it's perfectly probable that Guinevere's mind could have been clouded, though I don't know that I wrote it in a completely believable way. We'll just have to see what the other chapters hold in store, right? Thanks, guys, you're awesome._


	10. Chapter 10

_**A/N:** I think I had a smile on my face the entire time I wrote the first scene of this next chapter, if onlya few lines. Enjoy!_

* * *

As time wore on, Gaia did not venture near the carriage that carried Guinevere. The boy, Lucan, had been well enough after several days to ride on Dagonet's horse while the tall knight led him from the ground, and on this cloudy day, Gaia walked Latona next to the blonde boy.

"Are you a knight," the boy questioned her with curiosity.

"No, Lucan," she replied with a smile.

"Don't listen to her, boy," came Bors's voice from behind her, "she's every bit as much a knight as we are."

Gaia ignored the burning in her cheeks at Bors's words, and only closed her eyes and smiled. She heard a chuckle from beside her and she turned raised eyebrows to Gawain.

"Sir," she questioned in mock confusion.

"Ah, just thinking," Gawain sighed, "You're the most beautiful knight _I've_ ever seen." The other knights murmured their humorous agreements, and Gaia laughed aloud.

Someone cleared their throat at Gawain's words and Gaia turned to her other side to see Tristan emerging from the woods, his large hawk perched atop his shoulder. He stared at Gawain with stern eyes, but his lips were curved into the smallest of smiles. The men saw this and their laughter grew.

"Tristan," Gawain sighed threw his laughing, "we have missed you whilst you were scouting." His voice always held a humourous, facetious tone that did well to keep the mood lightened, as the men fought off the winter chill, thoughts of death and destruction attempting to consume them.

"I can see that," Tristan muttered as he paced his stallion beside Latona. He glanced a questioning glance to Gaia as they rode, and she smiled feebly, knowing what the question was lingering behind those dark, devastating eyes.

"No," she answered the unasked, "I have not been to see Guinevere." Tristan nodded and looked blankly, expressionlessly into the distance.

"You should," he whispered.

"Aye," Gaia sighed as she looked around for a change of subject, but found none. "I suppose you are right, as always, Sir Knight."

"I don't know about that," Tristan said with a laugh, "but you should still see her."

Gaia smiled a forced smile and move Latona from the band, dropping back to the carriage which held Guinevere. The canopy was open as Guinevere sat in the back of the carriage with her feet dangling. Her face looked somewhat colorful, though she still seemed worn, as was to be expected.

"You're looking well," Gaia said in the Woad tongue in an attempt to start conversation. Guinevere raised her eyes to see her half-sister and, to Gaia's surprised, she smiled.

"Gaia," she said lucidly in the same language, her voice shrill, but pleasant. "I was hoping you would come round."

"Y-you were," Gaia stammered, not understanding.

"Is it so hard to conceive," she questioned with raised eyebrows.

"Well," Gaia began, but seemed to have lost her voice.

"I understand," Guinevere began lengthily, "how you can disdain me, and I only implore you to forget our past."

"I'm not sure I can do that," Gaia muttered grudgingly. Guinevere's eyes flashed with annoyance.

"Sister," she sighed, "can you not just except my apology?"

"I wasn't aware I had received one," retorted Gaia coldly, her eyes narrowing as she watched the other.

Her smile faded at the condescending tone of her sister. "You take the people of the wood for fools, Gaia," whispered Guinevere. "You treat us with contempt because we are pagans. It is your weakness, and it will be your downfall."

"That doesn't sound like an apology to me," Gaia snapped, "but maybe it's only that I've never heard one before." Her words dripped with bitterness as she stared blankly in front of her.

Guinevere swung her feet back up onto the carriage and closed the curtain with a snap. Gaia relinquished a rather loud sigh and shook her head in confusion.

"That didn't sound like it went very well," said a smooth voice behind her. She turned saddened eyes upon Lancelot.

"Where did I go awry?" Tears were lingering threateningly behind her brown eyes, but she attempted to ignore them.

"Do you not know," Lancelot questioned with a smirk. "And why must I tell you, for I hold a valuable bargaining device, do I not?"

"Oh, Lancelot," Gaia spat, "why do you play with my emotions so? I cannot fathom my sister's behavior, and you jest about it!" She sighed and looked at the closed canopy in thought. "I just get so unnerved, Lancelot," she whispered, "I see her face when she beat me. I see her hatred, her malevolence. I cannot escape it. How can I be warm to her?"

"Try," Lancelot whispered back. "Try hard."

---

Gaia sat on a tree stump near a very large fire, watching the knights as they drank and talked. Tristan had ridden ahead and she felt that, since it was the midst of night, she would do more harm than good in joining him. The Roman guards of Marius's were standing around only one of the numerous carriages, the one which Alecto and his parents. As she sat staring into the fire, praying for the courage to forgive Guinevere, she noticed someone sit beside her and knew in a moment, without turning to look, that is was Arthur.

"I have often thought of Briton," Gaia said softly to the Roman, her eyes not leaving the blazing fire, "what will be its fate? The Woads will regain control, that is certain, but who will lead them? Certainly not Merlin, for he is wearied and aging. He will need a successor." She turned her eyes to Arthur now, and watched as his features melt into a look of confusion.

"Why are you telling me this," he asked in a soft tone. His face was ashen and weary, but held a certain spark to it that Gaia had thought was long lost.

"Arthur," she continued, "the Woads have been, for so many years, disdainful. Malevolent. They have separated themselves from the human race entirely," she added dramatically, though her voice remained placid. "They are no longer considered men. But," her voice grew gentle as she grasped Arthur's hand, "you, Arthur, you can reunite them; bring mankind to its peak in righteousness! You can lead these people, you can rule this island."

Arthur only stared at the other in shocked surprise. He was at a complete loss for words, numerous emotions working within him. He looked into her eyes, and found a truthful encouragement that he had not seen in a long while. While it was true he was beginning to feel something towards Guinevere, these beautiful brown eyes still held his heart. He thought he dared not bring it up, and turned his mind from it.

"You sound confident," he said with the smallest of sardonic smiles. "I admit the thought of governing this land never came-"

"Not governing, Arthur," Gaia broke in quickly, her eyes shining, "_ruling_. You know what it is to _rule_, don't you?"

Arthur blinked. "The definition I associate with that word is not a happy one," he said flatly.

"Oh, come off it," Gaia cried softly, "it is not a sin to rule, Arthur. You are not defying God by leading people, so long as you have the proper motivation."

"And I do," Arthur asked with raised eyebrows.

"Yes," Gaia said immediately, "I knew _that_ from the moment I met you. But, what you seem to lack is the self-confidence. Unfortunately, only you can instill that upon yourself."

Arthur managed a small smile and brought Gaia's hand up to kiss her small fingers. "You are too kind to me," he whispered. "I do not deserve it."

"With talk like that, you'll _never_ instill self-confidence," Gaia said with a laugh, and Arthur joined in immediately.

"I will pretend that kissing a taken woman's hand is a platonic Roman custom," said a rough voice and Gaia turned immediately to see Tristan dismounting his horse.

"No," replied Arthur facetiously, "you simply rode in whilst I was trying desperately to charm the lady, but to no avail."

"I am sorry to ruin the mood," Tristan joked as he walked to where the two Christians sat, Gaia's hand now a good distance from Arthur's as her cheeks reached cherry-apple red. His aura of levity waned, and vanished completely after a moment.

"Saxons," Arthur questioned, the hint of fear in his voice.

Tristan nodded his head only slightly and Gaia felt the breath escape her once more.

* * *

_**A/N:** Arthur kisses her fingers and she does not blush? It's a miracle! haha. I wanted forget the relationship (or lack thereof) drama with the two of them and really get into Arthur's destiny. But now we have to make sure Arthur has a destiny and it isn't just falling at the hands of these Saxons. The plot thickens...(ok, not really. haha). Thanks to Capt Annie and Vintersorg for the lovely reviews! Much appreciated, I promise you!_


	11. Chapter 11

_**A/N:** I can't thank you guys enough for the reviews! The feedback is what really helps me to keep updating ;) Well, the Saxons are coming, the Saxons are coming! I should play the Jaws theme right about now..._

* * *

Gaia watched the two men engage deeply into conversation, and felt her heart begin to beat wildly. Arthur immediately called to the other knights and esquires, all of which were at Arthur's side in mere seconds.

"The Saxons trail us," he said quickly, and Tristan quickly repeated all he had found. His tone was blank, which did little to encourage anyone at the moment. Gaia did not listen, but walked purposefully towards the carriage that held Guinevere.

She slip back the canopy slowly and found Guinevere sitting in the corner with her knees pulled to her chest, watching the sleeping Lucan, but listening to the conversation at hand, being held mainly, now, by Bors and Galahad.

Guinevere shot Gaia a look of horror and whispered to her in the language of Woads, "we will never reach the Great Wall!"

"We won't," replied Gaia in a stern voice. "Not alone." Guinevere understood this and rose from her position, exiting the carriage. She made to walk to the woods, but Gaia stopped her with a hand to her shoulder. "Have you forgotten you are in an ill state," she asked sarcastically.

"Will you go," Guinevere snapped back. "What would ensue if you appeared at Merlin's feet,begging for help?"

"I will receive it," Gaia shot back. "Do not pretend you know what is amiss, for you have been locked in that dungeon for months, and things have happened since then." With that, Gaia walked quickly to Latona and mounted her bare back, goading her forward with her legs, and the mare jumped into a quick canter, leaving Guinevere to stare at the forest with disdain.

* * *

Gaia was deep inside the forest, consumed by the dark, but she still managed to steer the frightened Latona around the infinite number of trees and bushes. She felt a safety within these trees that she had not felt in a long while. Certainly, she felt safe with Arthur and Tristan, but she'd had a sickening fear whenever she entered the woods for the past year, and now that she knew Merlin did not intend to kill her, that fear was evanescent. It was not long, venturing through these woods unaccompanied, that she was noticed by Woads and she soon reached a clearing in which a young paladin showed himself with wary eyes upon the British girl.

"I come in search of reinforcements," she said quickly in the Woad language when she saw the boy. "Arthur Castus and his knights are in danger."

"Why should we help you," asked another Woad, an older man, who walked out of the trees and stood beside the boy. "Why should we aide the men of the citadel, and why should we not kill you for entering our woods?"

"Because Saxons are coming from the west," Gaia explained quickly. "We are transporting the son of Marius Honorius-" she stopped abruptly, remembering the disdain these people held for Marius and his Roman Christianity. "We saved a family from the Saxons back west, and they've trailed us thus far! We are too few to fight them alone, we need your help!"

The man was silent for a long moment and then, with no warning, a scout jumped from a nearby tree and knocked Gaia off Latona with a sickening thud. She fell to the ground, and into complete and silent darkness.

* * *

Tristan was silent as he stared around the campfire, a nagging fear tugging at his sleeve. The men were preparing for a battle while Jols and Ganus led the carriages, accompanied by the Roman guards of Marius as their only protection. However, in the pandemonium that had ensued, Tristan could not seem to find Gaia. At first he put thoughts of captivity from his mind and assured himself she was fine, but now a half an hour had nearly gone by and he had not seen her.

"Tristan," Arthur questioned him, noticing the fear that was hinted in the scout's eyes, "what is it?"

"Where's Gaia," Tristan asked bluntly, not bothering to hide the urgency in his voice.

Arthur's face lost all color as he stared at Tristan in disbelief, but his silence was broken by a soft voice behind him.

"She is gone," said Guinevere. Arthur and Tristan turned anxious eyes upon her. She was clad in a flowing blue gown of Fulciana Honorius's and her dark hair was blowing wildly in the chill of the morn.

"Where," Tristan grunted as he moved to his stallion, Arthur and Guinevere exchanging nervous glancing before following the scout.

"To the wood," Guinevere said irritably, "do you not know her obstinate nature?" Her tone was cold and heated at the same time.

Tristan, who had now mounted his stallion and was securing his quiver, shot Guinevere a disdainful look. "She is anything but obstinate."

Guinevere scoffed. "She is a fool."

Arthur stared incredulously at the young girl, but remained silent as he saw the stony look that now graced Tristan's face.

"What happened," Tristan growled, and Guinevere's confidence seemed to wane as she saw the malevolence flash in his eyes.

"She said we needed the help of my people," Guinevere muttered as she looked away from the scout; "I told her I should ride thither; I tried to tell her the people of the wood were not so forgiving! I implored her, I told her she was a fool, but she would not listen."

Tristan turned his stallion towards the woods and glanced to Arthur, almost as if he were asking permission, though Arthur knew he would go on without it.

"The Saxons are nearly upon us, Tristan," Arthur said with an imploring tone, "we will need your aide."

"She needs me," Tristan muttered, and Arthur was slightly surprised at the passion in his tone. "I will be swift."

Arthur could do little but agree that Gaia was undoubtedly in a great deal of trouble, and watched as Tristan spurred his horse and disappeared in the depths of the forest.

* * *

_**A/N:** Gaia's in trouble! Tristan to the rescue!Gaiaand Guinevere aren't exactly hitting it off. It's the sort of thing in which each is too stubborn to forget the past, you know, but I don't think that is the sort of past one easily forgets, no? Anyway, Tristan is far more passionate in this story than in the last, but that's for obvious reasons. Mainly because he was not formally "with" Gaia, for lack of a better word. We're living in modern times, what can I say. Courting? I suppose that may be adequate. Anyhow, I'm enjoying the new passionate Tristan. Anyone else?_


	12. Chapter 12

_**A/N: **I'm glad everyone is so receptive to the new Tristan! We'll be seeing more of him in this chapter, certainly. But, for now, let's see what's happened to Gaia..._

* * *

Gaia felt the muddy floor of the forest beneath her wet form. She could smell the forest, drenched in rain or snow or both. The forest smell was always bolder when the grounds and trees were newly wetted. The snow was falling lightly, she could feel the flakes touch her face. Uncertain of what she would see, and frightened that it would be a Saxon, she opened her eyes to a blur of blueish colored people.

"Gaia," whispered a familiar, feminine voice.

"Titania," Gaia questioned as she pushed herself up on her elbows and rubbed her eyes. "What the _hell_ happened?"

"Gaia," came another voice, one that did not spark the same warmth inside her.

"Father," Gaia grunted as her eyes began to focus on the two people standing above her. Then, with a sudden thud in her stomach, she remembered why she had ventured from the knights in the first place. "How long-"

"Not for but a half an hour," Merlin said quickly as he turned his back upon his daughter.

"A half hour!" Gaia's voice rang with incredulous anger. "Saxons," she breathed, and Merlin's cape whipped swiftly around as he stared at her hardly. "Saxons-our scout, he found them out. They have been trailing us from the west, but our caravan is slow and they have caught-"

"Arthur was a fool to attempt to save the life of the serfs," Merlin spat.

"Arthur was brave," Titania interrupted in a small voice. "Father, we must help them!"

"The skills of the Sarmatian knights are beyond contestation," Gaia sighed, "but they are in your territory, they need your aide!"

Merlin was silent for a long while, in which time Gaia felt the need to slap him across the face for taking such lengthy time whilst the knights, and her love, were in such peril. Finally, he turned to Titania.

"Go, my daughter," he whispered, "and send word to Aeron and Phoebus. They will take their legions and follow Gaia to the point where the Roman's men are." Titania was gone in a beat.

"How will I lead them, Father," she spat disdainfully, "when I was knocked unconscious and was unable to see my way?"

"You have only come further west," he spat back. They both glared at each other for a long moment before Gaia finally sighed and her expression lightened.

"You could have killed me, as I know you have long desired," she said softly.

"These men will need you before the end," he replied in a whisper.

"And why does that further your decision?"

Merlin did not answer immediately. He stared softly, almost unfortunately, at his daughter. "He will rule this land," he said after a while. "I have foreseen it."

"You have _foreseen_ a lot of things," Gaia stated, her voice hinting a cold hatred. "But," she added with uncertainty, "I, too, have felt this. I tried to tell him once, but he did not understand."

"He will not immediately see his purpose in this world," Merlin stated. "He needs to be shown."

Gaia stared quietly into the distance, deep in thought. She wondered what the Roman's fate would be, because whilst she and her father stood here, speaking of Arthur one day ruling Britain, the man could very well be laying dead somewhere in the east. That was when she heard the hoof beats; the rider made no attempt to silence his horse, and therefore she knew it was not a Saxon. However, the Woads did not ride horses, so that only left-

"Tristan," Gaia whispered to the darkness. Merlin looked in the direction of the sound and certainly enough Tristan rode into the clearing, his bow in hand. "Tristan," Gaia screeched in surprise and slight horror. He dismounted and took her into his arms immediately.

"Don't _ever_ do that again," he muttered when she looked up into his dark eyes, and he could not fight back his smile.

"I don't intend to," she replied. Both seemed to have forgotten the withered man who stood in silence as they exchanged quiet conversation, until there was a rustling of leaves and what looked to be a hundred Woads made their way to the clearing. At this time, Gaia turned back to her father.

"Promise me," she said hurriedly, "that if I fail, you will send whatever men you can to protect the caravan heading east. It carries a great importance to Rome, a young boy by the name of Alecto Honorius."

"Honorius," Merlin reiterated with disdain, "He is of the Roman estate-"

"And of great importance to Rome," Gaia cut across him, "and the Sarmatian men will not receive their discharge papers of safe conduct through Rome unless the boy is delivered to the Great Wall. See to it that he is delivered, father," her tone was soft, warm, daughterly for the first time in a long while.

"They took Guinevere," Merlin spat, the malevolence in his voice bolder than ever.

"Guinevere is well," Gaia persisted; "do me this promise. If there is nothing left, see to it that this boy is delivered."

Merlin's lips slipped into the smallest of acquiescent smiles and Gaia returned it before moving toward Latona, who was tied to a nearby tree. Tristan mounted and rode to the chestnut mare, his bow still at the ready.

"Next time you plan to ride off and save the day," he said flatly, "let me know."

"I am sorry," Gaia laughed as she spurred Latona into an easy canter and Tristan followed suit, "I only succumbed to my Sarmatian instincts."

* * *

Arthur paced the snow-covered ground of the forest with anxiety. Tristan had been gone for what seemed like an eternity, and the drums of the Saxons could be heard in the distance. He froze in his pacing at the sound of horses approaching swiftly, and whipped around, his crimson cape billowing behind him, as he unsheathed Excalibur in a quick movement.

Gaia halted Latona before the Roman commander and watched with satisfaction as his placid face grew light.

"Gaia," he gasped, exasperated, as he sheathed his longsword once more. "I see your plan worked," he noted as the two small armies of Woads appeared from the wood. Gaia motioned for the two commanding Woads to join her as she dismounted.

"This is Aeron," she said with a smile as she introduced the tall, lean man, and she stole a quick glance in Lancelot's direction in enough time to see him frown considerably, "and this is Phoebus," she added as she extended her introduction to the broad, husky male amazon. Phoebus did not hold the rugged good looks of Aeron, and his face held no softness; in stead, he was stern and placid, much like his brother, Raenus.

"Arthur Castus," Aeron spoke quietly as he bowed his head. "We are under your command, Sir."

Arthur acknowledged this statement, knowing how difficult it must have been for the young man to utter, but could devote little time to it as the drums of the Saxons grew louder, more menacing, in the distance.

"Tristan," Arthur called to his scout, who was by his side in a beat, "we will need room for combat; what chance do we having of reaching the edge of the forest?"

"None," Tristan replied truthfully as he glanced around him in thought. "There's a frozen lake south of here," he said in recollection, "it might be the best we can find."

"How far?"

"Several miles," the scout replied shortly.

"Lead us," Arthur said quickly as he mounted his horse, then turned to Aeron and Phoebus. "Can you keep up," he asked not unkindly.

"Of course," Aeron smirked slightly before he and the taller Woad turned to their armies and shouted orders in their unusual language.

"Gaia," Arthur began uncertainly as the young woman mounted her chestnut mare, "Guinevere has no horse. We could not take one from the Roman guards; they may need each."

"I cannot bare her," Gaia said placidly.

"You do not have to," came a voice from beside Latona and Gaia looked down to see Guinevere, her arms folded across her chest as she glared at Gaia. "I can fight with _my_ people," she spat before stalking away, taking care to flash her sister one last anger-filled look.

"Oh dear," Gaia breathed as Guinevere walked away, "I never can seem to do anything right, can I?"

"You brought us aide," Arthur recognized with a tilt of his head to the Woads behind them, "we'll be thankful for that before the end, I promise you."

Gaia was silent as they rode south to the frozen lake which Tristan had mentioned, a fear growing stronger inside her with every pound of the Saxon drums in the distance. She had long since stopped trying to comfort poor Horton who was absolutely beside himself with terror. She only prayed he would see the fort once more, and that he was quick with a sword, for he would certainly need to be..

* * *

_**A/N:** Yes, Guen and Gaia are still bitter towards eachother. Can't help but keep that little bit of drama in there for a time, you know. I know it's really following the movie in having them fight on the ice, but I promise there's a few surprises coming. And Marius hasn't made any attempts at freedom yet, has he? Yet...haha. Thanks for the reviews, guys, they are much appreciated!_


	13. Chapter 13

_**A/N:** Thanks sooo much for the reviews, you all! You're so great! Yes, Tristan will have plenty of opportunities to save Gaia, I promise. ;) There's a little more of the passionate Tristan in this chapter as far as protecting Gaia goes. You'll see what I mean..._

* * *

The drums of the band of men in his army pounded heavily in Cynric's ears. His mind was not set on the forthcoming battle, as his father would tell him it should be; instead, his thoughts raced through moments of his life, moments that hurt him. He thought of these times often, mainly before a battle, when he needed to be as ruthless as his father. Reaching a thin finger to his cheekbone, he felt the long, swollen scar that had been given to him by his Saxon father. One on each side of his face, he was forever marked, but it was not his makeup that unnerved him most; it was knowing that his own father had done this to him, had made him this disfigured son. He could not recall his mother, she had long since been dead. Cerdic had done away with her when she had bore him the son he needed.

"Sir," came an urgent voice next to him and Cynric was pulled from his ungodly horrific reverie. He turned as he walked, eyeing his lieutenant with raised eyebrows. Raewald only pointed ahead and Cynric understood.

Approaching them from ahead was a small, nimble man with a dark, freakish air. He slunk through the trees like a worm, slithering unheard.

"What have you seen," Cynric asked the scout as he neared them, raising his voice of the pounding of the drums.

"They have sent their caravan onwards," Geoffrey the Scout replied; "but the knights of Rome await us, heading south."

"What of the caravan," Cynric forced.

"There is only a few Roman guards, pagan serfs, and some men who seem to be esquires accompanying them," Geoffrey replied quickly. "They will be no match for us."

"Then let us deal with the Roman knights firstly," said Cynric with a smirk, "and then we shall claim our prize."

* * *

The cold was nearly unbearable, and summer was still in its midst. It shocked Gaia that she could have lived as the Woads live; it seemed like another life, the years before she was taken in by Arthur and his men. She had once been a machine, it seemed, able to cope with such things as summertime in Briton, but now she had grown acclimated to the burning fires and warm blankets she found within the citadel, not to mention the warmth of Tristan's embrace.

Now, as she rode deeply through the woods behind Arthur, Tristan was not holding her, but sitting content on his stallion ahead of Arthur. She longed to be back in the citadel, back before the news of the Saxons, the arrival of the bishop. She hoped that this was just a horrible nightmare from which she would wake at any moment, but as they rode on, her wish was not granted.

Tristan halted his stallion and dismounted, and after Arthur did the same, Gaia followed suit. Soon, all of the mounted knights had dismounted their steeds and lead them aside.

"Please," said Aeron hastily, as Arthur prepared to tie his gelding's reins to a tree, "do not endanger your animals. I can spare several men to take the horses to safety."

Tristan raised an eyebrow as he turned to Gaia with a smirk, and she let out a small laugh. The knights had often joked about the British girl's love for animals and how she preferred not to ride into battle, for fear of hurting her mount.

"Jon," Aeron called to a short, thin soldier, who stepped forward immediately, "round up several men to bring these horses-"

"Pardon, Sir," the young boy cut across the commander, who raised an eyebrow at being interrupted, but remained light-faced, "wouldn't it be best to send the lady Titania back with these horses; she should certainly not be among us." The boys eyes fell to the floor as Aeron's face turned crimson with anger.

"Titania," he called out ruthlessly, "show yourself!"

Gaia stared at the young woman who worked her way out of the crowd, and she knew, despite the fact she could not see him, that Lancelot was watching her sister as well. Titania was clad in the clothing of the paladin warriors, her body deep blue with dye from the woad plant. Her hair fell all around her in an untamed fashion, though it was clearly planned in an attempt to hide her identity. She slowly approached her beloved, her eyes glued to the ground the entire time.

"Titania," he breathed incredulously when he saw her, "what in Hellfire are you doing!"

"Fighting for my land," she whispered in reply as she stared intently at the ground, at Aeron's feet, at anywhere but his face.

"You _do not_ fight," Aeron reprimanded her. "You are Merlin's favorite daughter, he has forbade you!"

"We have little time," Tristan cut in, his tone flat and serious. He was clearly not remotely caring of the situation. Gaia knew his only thought was seeing his brothers-in-arms through this battle, and she could heartily agree with that.

There was a long silence in which Aeron seemed not to be breathing, and Titania stared mutely at the man's feet.

"Aeron" Arthur whispered finally, as several Woads jumped at the sound of the Saxon drums drawing dangerously close, "we can lead the horses across the lake. We can make it across before they get here if we make haste.."

Aeron slowly nodded his head, but did not refrain from staring a horrible glare at Titania as he led his battalion to the frozen lake.

Gaia slowed Latona's pace as she hand-walked the mare over the frozen ground. Thankfully, the ice had been covered with packed snow, and therefore the horses had an easier time making their way across, though several mounts still fell when their iron shoes hit the slippery surface. Latona snorted playfully at the snow and bent down to rub her nose in it, pulling a daydreaming Gaia halfway down as she went.

"Graceful," said a soft voice beside her, and Gaia turned to glare at Lancelot.

"Watch yourself, Sir," Gaia mocked, "for I have powerful friends." She pointed ahead to where Bors was leading his gelding steadily, and Lancelot threw a casual laugh.

"He would not hurt the father of Vanora's children," Lancelot retorted, loud enough for Bors to hear, which the large knight did, and Gaia could see the glow of red exude from his face, even though she walked behind him.

"You ass," Gaia whispered back to Lancelot; "the man's got enough to deal with; he doesn't need your jokes."

"Who said I was joking," asked Lancelot in a hurt voice, though his smile was devilish, as always.

"Hold your tongue," she snapped, but she could not hold in her laughter long, and soon she was chuckling with Lancelot.

* * *

The frozen lake was large, and when they finally reached the other end, the Saxons were nearly at the lake's wide beginning. Aeron and Phoebus led their small armies quickly to the secrecy of the trees, and Horton the Secretary settled himself in hiding. Cynric walked forward with Raewald in his wake, and Arthur came to meet him. Tristan immediately followed, and when Bors took a step forward, Gaia raised a hand.

"Down, Bors," she said with a smirk as she hastily followed Arthur and Tristan herself. Bors growled and mutter incoherently, but Gaia only smiled and continued after the two men.

Upon reaching the center of the lake, Cynric raised a hand in salute, and Arthur responded with the same. They stood for a long moment in complete silence, each sizing up the other, and Cynric finally allowed his eyes to travel to Gaia, and a smile played across his face.

He took a step near to her, and she found her face burning as his eyes bore into her. Arthur raised a hand to Tristan's arm, which had gone for its sword, and Raewald raised his own in warning.

"A lady fighting," Cynric mused in a sanctimonious manner as he circled her, much like a panther circling its prey. Then, he whispered to her in a voice that made her skin crawl; "After my victory, rest assured that I will find you, and I will have you here, on this very lake."

Gaia released a gasp that Tristan had obviously only needed to hear, and he unsheathed his sword, lunging at Cynric. Arthur, however, remained cool, having not heard the horrible threats from Cynric's mouth to Gaia's ears; he grabbed Tristan by the arms and struggled with the knight while Cynric returned to Raewald, who stood in front of his commander with a malevolent glare at Tristan.

"Hold," called Arthur to his knights, of whom we drawing arrows, and loading them into their bows, and Cynric did the same to his soldiers. Tristan had finally seemed to calm down, though his eyes still shone with the urge to force his blade through the pit of Cynric's stomach. The tears in Gaia's eyes, and the utter fright that played across her face did little to comfort the scout, either.

"Why are you confronting us," Arthur asked, ignoring the remarks Cynric spat from behind the shield of Raewald. "Why must we fight?"

Cynric only laughed before replying, "If you do not know, Roman, you will not hear it from me."

"You seek the boy," Arthur questioned.

"Yes," replied Cynric incredulously. "And why would we not? His head holds a high price, did you not know this?"

"Then let us fight," Arthur said placidly, and Cynric and his lieutenant turned without a word back to the Saxon army who waited with raised bows.

Arthur stared at the Saxon with utter distaste for a long moment before releasing his hold on Tristan and walking back to the knights himself. Tristan did not follow the commander, but grabbed Gaia and pulled her into an embrace.

"What did he say," Tristan growled in a voice that Gaia knew she could not disobey.

"I will tell you after you kill him," she replied warily, and she felt Tristan tense considerably as they walked to the waiting knights.

"Gaia," he said in a bit softer a voice, though she still heard the ambition of malevolence within it, "now."

She sighed, nodded, and prepared herself for the explosion that would be Tristan.

* * *

_**A/N:** And will there, in fact, be an explosion? Tristan doesn't really seem like the type to 'explode', does he? We'll have to see... And I wanted to bring Titania into the story a bit more, and this was the oppertune moment, I thought. But will Aeron forgive her, and will Tristan kill Cynric? Oh, the drama! Thanks again to the reviewers (and to those of you who've read, even if you don't review.)!_


	14. Chapter 14

_**A/N:** I seriously apologize for not updating sooner! And after getting such wonderful reviews! I'm so horrible, I know. Off with my head! Anyway, on with the story. One lovely reviewer happened to be right on the money... let's see who, shall we?_

* * *

There had been no explosion from Tristan; that Gaia had not been physically abused was enough for him, and he let the words of Cynric pass through his mind with a sigh. Though he still wanted no more than to dismember every limb on the Saxon leader's body, he could do so skillfully and remain in control of his actions knowing that Gaia had only been affected by words.

Now, though, Tristan stood in anticipation of the battle at hand, his bow arched, along with the bows of the others. The Woads were hidden in the trees, ready to unleash a death row of arrows on the unsuspecting legion below.

"Gawain," Arthur called the long-haired, kind-faced knight, who prepared himself to release his arrow.

"You expect to reach them from this far out of range," asked Guinevere. "Impossible."

"Not for a Sarmatian," retorted Lancelot with impatience, just as Gawain unleashed his arrow, which wove up into the musky clouds and then down again to embed itself into the neck of a Saxon archer. Gaia's eyes traveled immediately to the man clad in fur, hoping to see the hint of fear, and she saw it.

"Indeed," Guinevere breathed with surprise. Gaia heard Arthur chuckle next to her, and raised an eyebrow. "You'll have to show me how to do that, that's for damned sure," added Guinevere as she aimed her bow uncertainly and unleashed an arrow, which landed a good foot away from Cynric; Cynric jumped back considerably.

"Not bad," muttered Gawain carelessly, as he released another arrow. This one found it's way to the lieutenant next to Cynric. The fear on the Saxon leader's face was unavoidable now. He motioned for his men to move in swiftly, and they acquiesced.

But the Saxons were at a loss; as they walked, each knight loaded his arrow and fired at the Germanic soldiers. A line of men would fall for every step they took. The men slowed as the soldiers in front of them fell to their knees, screaming horrific cries of pain and death. They glanced uncertainly to their commander, but Cynric only forced them onwards.

Gaia loaded an arrow and released it in the time that it took for Guinevere to only remove an arrow from her quiver. Training with Tristan had brought out the best in her, and she was now a much more skilled warrior than she had been one year ago. However, she had not changed in the sense that she loathed killing even those who were guilty. Now, though, she fired her arrows quickly and felled nearly as many men as Tristan did, though she watched not with happiness, but horror, knowing that the Saxons would still be a great number when they reached Arthur and his few knights.

**

* * *

**

Cynric's breath seemed to freeze slowly in his throat. With every step he took, a man would fall. His men, his father's men. His father! What would his father say if Cynric appeared at his feet, begging forgiveness, when he returned with no men? That would not happen, that could not happen. He wouldn't let it happen. He would kill himself before he would return to his father without victory.

Now, as his men died in front of him, his mind raced and slowed all in one. He felt a chill, but he knew it was not from the snow, as he had on his layers of fur and armor. No wind could cut through that. No, it was fear. He did not often feel it, not unless it was provoked by his father, and even then a bitterness overrode it. This was true fear, and he would give anything to never have to feel it again.

"Sir," Raewald bellowed over the cries of dying men, "We are losing men-"

"That is obvious," Cynric cut across him bitterly. Had he his father's lack of compassion, he would have beheaded his lieutenant there and then. Thankfully for Raewald, Cynric had more compassion in him than he let on. He called for the men to bring forth their shields.

* * *

Arthur's face remained placid and expressionless as he watched tens of men fall to their knees in death. He only fired more arrows. His heart went out to the small Briton, Gaia, who stood next to him, shaking in her fear and grief. He longed to reach for her, hold her, but he knew it was not his place. Not anymore. Often he remembered the days before she had even known Tristan; back when he had first brought her to the safety of the Roman fortress. Those were the times when she had depended on Arthur; the times when he seemed to be the only person in the world, in her eyes. Now, he was fading from her mind. Now, she was relying completely on Tristan, and the scout was always there for her. He was not jealous of his knight, not anymore, not now that he had Guinevere. No, he did not have her, not yet. Though, he certainly felt for her, and for the first time in a long while, there was no man to fight for her; there was no man to provoke contestation.

But he could not dwell on thoughts now. He watched as the Saxon leader motioned and hollered to the men in German, and then the shields were brought forward.

"There catching on," he mused with a smirk, as he held up his hand and the knights ceased their firing.

The Saxons were cowering like dogs, all hiding underneath the shields which they held overhead as the fell to their knees for protection. Arthur basked in this moment, watching his enemy squirm, even though he knew that soon enough they would be into hand-to-hand combat, and the odds would not favor them so.

"Aim for their legs," he called, and Bors was the first to fire a shot. His arrow flew straight through the ankle of an archer, and the man fell, dropping his shield, which skidded across the ice. Bors put his foot on the armor as it rushed towards him.

"They're armor ain't worth shit," he muttered as he picked it up and examined it. "I should give it back." He then proceeded to throw the large shield as if it were a discus. It flew over the ice and directly into the feet of several Saxons, all who fell onto the hard ice with a cracking of bone.

"Nice," murmured Dagonet from beside his friend. Gaia raised an eyebrow, but did not remove her gaze from the army that now consisted of eighty Saxons, nearing slowly, but surely.

"They are nearly within range for us," Guinevere whispered as she glanced to the trees which held Merlin's best archers, silently sending them a signal. She was answered with a dozen feathered arrows blazing from the trees, each one managing to hit a Saxon. Several of the German soldiers staggered on, but nearly half of those hit fell dead within minutes.

They were still growing close. They would undoubtedly begin to fire their own arrows soon. Arthur hesitated.

"We should draw our swords," Dagonet yelled as he fired an arrow. "Let us be rid of these bastards once and for all."

The other knights nodded their agreements and each one discarded their bow, and unsheathed their sword.

Lancelot spun his twin blades around carelessly, lingering as if he were waiting on a friend. Dagonet growled as he picked up his large battleaxe, and watched the oncoming men with a glare. Galahad unsheathed sword and sleeved his shield-weapon, silent and concentrated, which was rare for the young knight. Gawain and Bors both preferred their twin knives, one in each hand, which they gripped tightly in anticipation. Guinevere, too had a knife, a small one, but she knew how to yield it, and it was just as lethal as any of the other knights' swords.

Gaia had no weapon in her hand; Tristan had taught her many of his fighting techniques and one of them was to draw your sword at the last possible minute. He said that unsheathing your weapon gave you a slight thrill, a pulsing moment of energy, and it was best to have that mentality only moments before you attacked your enemy.

"It's the best way to keep the thirst alive," he had told her, but she didn't think she ever felt "the thirst" in the first place. However, she heeded his orders and let her hands fall to her sides as she watched the Saxon men creep closer.

The Saxons were still cowering from the arrows of the Woads; still hiding under the shelter of their shields. It was not long, however, before Cynric realized these Sarmation men were not firing , and he ordered his men to attack with swords.

The men seemed to take one last breath before throwing their shields aside and unsheathing their swords. Several men died in the process. They flew to the knights like a swarm of bees, hollering their German war cries as they came, which were answered by the riotous Sarmatian bellow from every knight, along with Gaia.

The Saxons launched themselves upon the Sarmatians, Roman, and Britons. Gaia did as Tristan did and slowly unsheathed her blade, basking in the feeling of sudden power, and doing her best to wield it. She did not feel this bloodlust, however; in its stead she felt fear, sin, guilt. The horrific image of the decoy bishop's blood-stained body flooded her brain and she began to shake uncontrollably.

Metal met metal, iron fell upon iron, in an explosion of fury. Gaia swung her Sarmatian blade with the utmost concentration, dismembering a Saxon soldier. With every blow to an opponent, her heart beat faster in fury, in sorrow, and in grief. Though light was her heart, she did not allow herself to think of the men she killed, and only battled on.

* * *

_**A/N:** Yes, Ms Genova, you were right - an explosion from Tristan would be nothing short of a phenomenon ;-) Thanks for reviewing! I promise the next chapter will be up soon. And for those who are reading my Harry Potter fiction, I promise it will get updated! I've been lacking with it and trying to make it more interesting._


	15. Chapter 15

_**A/N:**_ I'm so glad you're all liking this story! Ms G, that last paragraph was my favorite, too. I've been neglecting my writing, but I'm getting back into it! Yay! Anyway, I think this story will end up being longer than Midsummer Knight's Dream! It seems to be the case. Anyway, Lancelot fans, you'll love this next chapter. Tristan fans won't be dissappointed either, methinks ;) Enjoy!

* * *

In the deep of the trees, Titania maneuvered through the thick, her heart pounding furiously inside her. She had never been in a battle, and she did not know that this particular one was twice as hard and twice as gruesome as most any the Woads had yet seen. She attempted to fire her arrow, but it missed its target completely and nearly connected with Bors.

"Put it away, girl," said a stern voice in a branch below her. Aeron fired his arrow before turning to look up at her. "We're better off without you for now."

Titania only stared at the man with a shocked face, her heart breaking as he glared at her.

"I only-" she began, but he quickly cut across her, turning back to the battle at hand.

"We will speak of it later," he said flatly; "presently, there are lives at risk."

The battle wore on below, Saxons falling miserably to the ground with every second passed. In the heat of a battle, Gaia could do little to help those around her, and only after making a killing could she let her eyes take in the view of the fight. After severing the arm of a Saxon man, Gaia let her eyes travel fiercely around the residual soldiers, which were few. She instantly saw Tristan as he pulled his sword from a fallen Saxon and advanced slowly upon Cynric.

This did not surprise her; she knew Tristan would aim to kill the man for what he said, and she also knew that none of the knights would stand in his way, or take the life of the man of whom Tristan sought retribution.

Around her, Gaia could do very little. There were so few Saxon men left that she had no one to fight. She watched as Tristan moved expertly around Cynric, blocking every obvious blow the Saxon bluntly made. Cynric was skilled, but his large coat of fur made it nearly impossible for him to move as swiftly as the scout, and it did not take long until he was on his knees, breathing furiously. Tristan poised his sword on Cynric's shoulder, preparing the severance of the Saxon's head. Gaia could not close her eyes; not when Tristan was doing this _for her_. It was not right that she show her fear.

Tears filled her eyes for the man who would soon see the end of his life. His words had left her mind and she now only saw a man so near to death, it was unbearable. Then, as Tristan was bringing his sword towards Cynric's neck, the Saxon struck out unexpectedly and sliced deeply into Tristan's left arm.

Gaia let out a scream, which, of course, drew the attention of neighboring fighters and all men - Saxon, Sarmatian, Roman, and Briton - turned to watch as Tristan stumbled, gripping his arm in agony. Cynric slowly rose to his feet with a malicious laugh, and it looked as if Tristan would fall to his knees. However, the scout was not so easily defeated. Flipping his sword around and grabbing it by its blade, Tristan struck the hilt deeply into Cynric's stomach, causing the Saxon leader to gasp wildly for any breath he may receive. While his left arm was bloody and useless at his side, Tristan used his right arm, flipping the blade so he held the hilt once more, and finally brought the lethal blade across Cynric's neck. The Saxon's head left its pitiful body and rolled in the snow, leaving a blood red trail.

Every Saxon who witnessed this horrific thing either took his own life, or made a run for the woods, where they were shot down by Merlin's still-hidden archers. It took no time for the remaining men to fall in either of those ways, and within moments the knights were all that remained. Woads slowly climbed from the trees, and they shook hands with the Sarmatian knights, and Arthur himself.

Gaia, however, ignored the other men and rushed directly to Tristan. He was gripping his left arm tightly, but there was a smile on his face. Gaia stopped in her tracks as she stared at him quite blankly.

"You must have a curse on you," Tristan muttered with a laugh, his eyes dancing; "last time you and I fought in the woods, it was my right arm." He glanced to his left and shook his head in mock pity.

Gaia let out a laugh at the memory, her mind wandering back to the day she had gone scouting with Tristan; they day her brother Huendt died. There had been an ambush planned for Tristan and he came away with a nearly ruined right arm.

Her smile faded as she took his arm, examining the wound. "I'm no Dagonet," she said after a while, "but I think it's safe to say that's deep." Her brow furrowed in concern as she looked into his eyes. He, however, seemed completely imperturbable. He only kissed her forehead and looked back at the residual body of Cynric.

"It's done," he growled as he spat on the corpse and walked her away from the horrific image on the ground.

* * *

Titania stood by a tree, her heart beating wildly. Never had she experienced anything like the horrible fight between Tristan and Cynric, and unfortunately having a seat so aloft, she could not block the images from her eyes, and she could now not block them from her mind. She gave a visible shudder as she watched Aeron and Arthur conversing.

"I'm sure that was hard," said a soft voice behind her and Titania turned frightened eyes upon Lancelot, who seemed to have emerged from no where.

"Sir Knight, you frightened me," she said in a faultily nonchalant voice.

"That wasn't it," Lancelot noted as he watched the girl's face intensely. "You were thinking on the battle. The Saxon bastard-"

"Yes, yes, I was. Must you bring it up again," she asked in a tone that reminded Lancelot ironically of Gaia.

"Apologies," he said through silent laughter. "I shall be more respectful of your fragile heart in the future." Titania raised an eyebrow at this and Lancelot laughed once more. "I've known your sister long enough, Titania. It's in your blood to be lighthearted."

"And it's in your blood to be lewd and uncaring," she countered.

"Well, yes, I supposed you're right," Lancelot replied in a mock thoughtful voice. "But then again, I doubt I can be considered lewd...yet."

"Sir," Titania gasped as he took a step nearer her, his face now mere inches from hers, "you are absolutely intolerable!"

"So I hear," he replied as he stepped forward once more, their faces so tediously close. Titania's eyes did not leave his as her cheeks grew crimson.

"Sir," she goaded in a trembling voice, "you are far too forward."

"No," Lancelot said flatly, "this would be too forward-" and his lips were on hers in a steady kiss, which Titania returned. Her mind raced with thoughts and emotions, not knowing what to feel or what to say. She made to pull away from him, but he had backed her into the tree and she had no way of escaping his captivity. Gripping the tree lethally she made an attempt to turn her face from him, but Lancelot's mouth followed hers. She finally gave in to him, her thoughts erased, her emotions numb. When Lancelot could feel her acquiescence, he pulled slightly away, just enough to whisper to her, "Do you disdain forward men?"

Titania considered his words for a moment, considered the feeling she had just felt. "Not anymore," she whispered in reply as she moved in for another kiss, forgetting herself completely. She pulled away and Lancelot smiled a devilishly charming and enticing smile. Titania returned the smile, a bit more fragile of a smile, and she looked over his shoulder as she intwined her hands around his neck. Her eyes widened when she noticed Aeron standing only yards away, his dagger unsheathed and his face full of pain.

* * *

_**A/N:** Oh dear, the drama! Hope you enjoyed. It probably got a little rough with the beheading of Cynric, but what can I say? Oh, I'd like to point something out to everybody, while I'm here: according to a special I saw on the History channel, warriors in this era (300s AD) didn't have large enough hilts on their swords to be able to hold it with two hands as Tristan does in the film. Just an interesting thing I thought I'd share. But, they got away with it in King Arthur and Kingdom of Heaven (not to mention plenty of other movies, undoubtedly), so I'm going to use it anyway... hahaha_


	16. Chapter 16

_**A/N:** Thank you all, my dear reviewers, for the enthusiasm! Reading what you've got to say is so much fun. I love how you all are so into the story. I feel special ;) Anyway! Sorry for the lack of update, but I bring it to you now. Hope you all enjoy!_

* * *

Lancelot could feel the tension in the air; he could almost taste it. Something was certainly amiss from the way Titania suddenly seemed to freeze in his arms. He looked into her eyes, still holding her pinned against the trunk of a massive English tree, and he saw horror. He could not fathom a reason for such a look on the young girl's face, and so he released her and followed her gaze to see a livid-looking Aeron standing behind him, his dagger unsheathed.

Lancelot took a few steps away from Titania, raising his arms in surrender, levity dripping from every movement. He did not do well to hide the smirk that flashed across his lips. Aeron seemed to contemplate chucking his dagger right into Lancelot's heart, but rethought such a reckless act and sheathed his weapon.

Titania could not move. Her eyes were fixed on Aeron, but the man did not return her gaze. He kept his eyes set in a glare to Lancelot. Then, with no words passed, the Woad captain turned quickly and disappeared into the throng of warriors.

Titania stared after him for a long moment, and Lancelot looked to her with concern and caring. Her thoughts were a blur, her mind an utter mess. All she could see was the hatred, the pain in Aeron's eyes. She left Lancelot to stand alone and wound through the groups of Woads who were now setting up campfires in the dark of the evening. Aeron was seated at one by himself, his eyes focused ahead of him into oblivion. She wordlessly sat next to him, her eyes searching his face. He, however, paid her no mind, but looked fiercely at the fire.

"Aeron, please-" she began, but he quickly cut across her, not turning from the fire.

"You have disobeyed your own father," he spat in a horribly livid voice, "you have endangered your people, and now you have betrayed my love."

"No," she whispered as she shook her head, tears cascading down her pink cheeks. "I did not betray your love, Aeron, please."

"What have you come here for," he asked flatly, now turning cold, listless eyes upon her. "What do you seek from me?"

"Forgiveness," she replied in a choked whisper.

"That is not easily given," Aeron replied flatly.

"Please-"

"I do not see why I should, Titania," he cut in, a new energy seeming to find its way to his words as his eyes shown with the pain he felt. "Why should you not be with him? Why should I stop you?"

"I love you," she replied through her tears.

"No, you do not."

Titania stopped her sobbing as she stared at him, open-mouthed. Instead of imploring, her eyes now glowed with anger. "How can you say that?" she asked in a forceful tone. "When for so long-"

"I could see it in the way you kissed him, Titania," Aeron replied tiredly, not acknowledging the change in her demeanor. "Never have you showed such emotion to me."

Titania stood up with a fire burning inside of her, and with a haul, she brought her hand down and slapped the man across the face. He did not flinch, but a pale red burn was visible on the right side of his face.

"I've given you all I have," Titania said through gritted teeth; "and I would do it all again. I love you. Do _not_ tell me otherwise. Perhaps it is you that does not love _me_, if you are so unwilling to forgive." She regretted the last words when Aeron stood also and he himself raised a hand, striking her across the face. She gasped and raised her pale palm to the searing cheek.

"I love you," he spat at her, his tone suggesting otherwise, "and you will _not_ turn this around to be my fault! I love you!"

"I love _you_!" Her voice was now a scream, and all who had not yet noticed the bickering couple now turned curious eyes upon them just as Titania stalked away, a hand still at her cheek.

She worked her way through the campfires until she found the one with Gaia and Tristan, who ironically were accompanied by Arthur, Guinevere, and Lancelot.

"Bloody hell," she whispered with impatience when she saw the latter. "I cannot win."

Lancelot cleared his throat and struck a conversation with Arthur concerning the second army of Saxons. Guinevere stared blandly at Lancelot, then to Titania, but remained silent. Gaia had been silently applying bandages to Tristan's cauterized wound, Tristan of whom was eating an apple with his free hand, throwing in bits of conversation with Lancelot and Arthur, usually only to correct one of the men on a location or strategy. Gaia did not turn her eyes to Titania as the younger sister sat beside her with a sigh.

"I suppose that was just a fine example of a lovers' quarrel," Gaia asked carelessly as she focused on the bandages and Tristan's arm.

"Oh, hell," Titania said with a frown, "he's such an impudent, petulant fool!"

"Well, now," Gaia returned with a chuckle, "I see the 'I love you's were not meant in endearment."

"Of course not." Titania rested her head in her hands and stared blankly at the fire. "A fine mess I've made of things. I should have stayed home."

"Do you mind if I ask," said Guinevere in a careless tone from next to Tristan, "what you meant when you said 'I love you' if it were not endearing?"

"He thinks I've betrayed him," Titania said impatiently.

"With who," Guinevere pressed. Lancelot and Arthur had slowed their conversation considerably and now forgot they had even been engaging in one.

"Oh, Guinevere," Gaia shot in, throwing her sister an unhappy look from Tristan's other side. "Things like that are meant to be kept secret, so of course everyone knows! You are only teasing her! How heartless can you be?"

"I did not betray my father and kill his favorite warrior," Guinevere shot back. Gaia released Tristan's arm and rose, glaring at Guinevere, but the dark scout gripped her arm and returned her to her seat, forcing her to look into his eyes.

"Leave it," he said pointedly, and his lips curved into a smile as he saw the fire in her eyes. He loved to see her when her emotions were rampant. It showed the natural, the more intense side of her. He longed to kiss her, but this was not the time. He released her arm as he saw Titania's crimson face, and looked away from the beautiful eyes of his beloved.

Gaia sighed and removed Guinevere's words from her mind, turning her thoughts to Titania. "I don't suppose what just happened was your attempt at an apology, Titania?"

"It was a try," Titania spat, her eyes burning as she looked to the spot a good distance away where Aeron's campfire was.

"And it did not work, I see," Guinevere sighed. "You are both far too obstinate; it makes for a poor match."

"_Guinevere_!" Gaia's eyes shot to her half-sister in rage, urging her to say but one more foolish word. Guinevere replied with eyes just as fiery, and Tristan was once again forcing Gaia back into her seat. He held back the chuckle that he felt at seeing her so angry. She was beautiful when she was angry.

"I apologize," Lancelot said finally as he stepped around the fire to sit next to Titania. He had thought better of making a move towards the girl and only remaining seated and silent with Arthur, but he could not contain his displeasure for seeing the young woman so unhappy. "Prey, walk with me and let us talk." Titania seemed unwilling at first, especially by the negative and livid way Gaia seemed to be glaring at Lancelot, but finally agreed and the two walked off, unnoticed, into the deep of the forest.

"He should not have done that," Arthur muttered as he watched the two disappear.

"I agree," Guinevere sighed, "he is a fool, but she was equally foolish to except."

Gaia's eyes had been shining with disagreement from the moment Lancelot rose from his seat at the fire, and they now turned raging on Guinevere once more. She did not say a word, but it was evident that her patience was incredibly short when Guinevere was involved. She opened her mouth, her face crimson with annoyance, but stopped to look quizzically at Tristan who had begun to laugh.

"Damn, woman," he growled as he pulled her back into her seat and into a deep kiss, finally unable to contain himself.

* * *

_**A/N:** I had to add a little humor at the end, if humor is the right word for it. Something slightly lighter :) Anyway, Aeron didn't fight Lancelot! I know, it should have happened. But Aeron is much like Tristan in his emotions and how he comports himself. I didn't mean for Guin to sound really ...er... b-word-ish here. She's just not understanding the tender hearts of her sisters. Could a certain Roman officer happen to help her with this? Maybe...if he ever gets over Gaia! More updates are coming, and faster, I promise. I'm getting myself on a better schedule and soon! Yay! Thanks for the reviews, and thanks for reading even if you don't review. You rock!  
_


	17. Chapter 17

_**A/N:** Capt Annie, I have to say that one of the events you mentioned in your review will happen. You're figuring my old brain out, dear.Adaringfeat, and one that never happens, even by myself, I assure you. ;) Thanks for the reviews, everybody! Alright, so this is where things will begin to take a turn away from the movie's events (finally) and become more original. Are we excited? Yay!_

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The lovely pair walked silently through the woods looking distraught and uncertain. Lancelot stayed a respectable distance away from the beautiful woman of the wood, and Titania knew it was something he was not accustomed to doing. Both minds were busy with questions and emotions, and realities they had never expected or foreseen. Neither dared to speak, for when one is in a situation where little good can come of anything, what can one say to lighten such a mood? Luckily, neither got the chance to speak because as they walked, they both heard a noise deep in the woods - a noise that sounded awfully like a whimper.

Lancelot unsheathed his twin blades and stepped ahead of Titania, walking warily and glancing sternly in the direction from whence the small voice came. As he drew nearer, he caught sight of a form on the ground, wiggling pitifully, and in a moment he knew exactly what - or who - it was.

"Horton," he sighed as he dropped his blades and knelt by the secretary. The little man was beaten and bruised, and it looked as though he had been stabbed several times over. He was certainly in the most horrified of states, but that is to be expected when one looks as he did and went through such torture as Horton had.

"He is horribly wounded," Titania observed from over Lancelot's shoulder, her voice heavy with sadness.

"What happened," Lancelot asked. He showed very little pity for poor Mister Horton, and in stead was worried about his key to freedom: Alecto Honorius.

"Saxon," Horton managed, and Lancelot tensed.

"Alecto," he said urgently. "What of Alecto?"

But poor Horton was far too stressed and wracked with fear to be able to answer idle questions. He fumbled with his words until finally he managed, "Fight."

Lancelot stared hard at the secretary who was still squirming on the ground. "Alecto," he persisted. Horton nodded his well-being after a moment, and Lancelot breathed freely.

"The survivors are up the road?" he asked, and Horton nodded once more. Lancelot sighed and rose from beside the secretary, walking pointedly back to the camp. "This man cannot be saved," he muttered.

Titania stared at the man on the floor, wondering if Lancelot was truthful or heartless.

* * *

Lancelot walked through the various campfires until he reached the one he had only left a few moments ago. Tristan and Gaia were embracing, which brought a surprising fire to his stomach and a burn to his heart, but he ignored it, along with the urge to slap Tristan. In stead, Lancelot's eyes moved to Arthur, who too was attempting to pay as little mind as he could to the couple. He was facing away from the camp, his hands working on sharpening a blade. Guinevere was sitting beside him, speaking quietly and examining a small knife of her own.

As Lancelot swept past Tristan and his beloved, they both turned raised eyebrows upon him and broke their kiss.

"Arthur," Lancelot called hastily, and the Roman turned with surprise, standing at the sound of urgency in Lancelot's tone. "Horton. I've just found him in the woods." His voice was bitter as he spoke of the Roman secretary. "He's a bloody mess-"

"-And in need of medical attention," chimed Titania, who had followed Lancelot at a safe distance, half-carrying the secretary and half-dragging him. "Would you mind?" she questioned to several of her people across the fires. The Woads hastily obeyed the wood princess and tended to the beaten man.

"Arthur," Lancelot continued, ignoring the just effort of Titania to save a man's life, "there is another Saxon army. They must have ambushed the carriage."

"Alecto?" Arthur asked in a voice similar to Lancelot's own when questioning the secretary.

"Horton seems to believe he's alive," Lancelot sighed in confusion. "That's who they're after, why didn't they take him?"

"You did well, Lancelot," Arthur replied quickly, placing a brotherly hand on the knight's shoulder. "We must move out," he called around him. "Tristan," he directed to the scout, "I don't doubt you have fervor, but I will not ask you to ride ahead now." For the knight-scout had already begun to rise from his seat, a frightened Gaia at his side.

"Who will you send, then," he asked bitterly. He was always annoyed when people treated him differently; specially.

Arthur looked to Gaia, who seemed confused and frightened. He caught her eye and she slowly nodded, but Tristan was obstinate.

"No, Arthur," he growled in a low tone, one that should never be used when addressing a higher-up, or even worse, a friend. He walked to his commander so that the Roman was the only one who heard his next words. "Do not take her, Arthur," he said in what almost sounded to Arthur as a pleading voice. "Send someone else. Anyone else."

Arthur was staring at Tristan in utmost confusion. The tone of the scout's voice, his countenance, everything about him seemed so unusual. There was something strange afoot that Tristan knew of, and though Arthur couldn't understand what it was, he did not doubt the man.

"Galahad,." Arthur said sternly, and with this he was off, working his way around the grounds and giving orders to knight and Woad, conversing for a moment Aeron. Galahad was swift to saddle his stud and take off into the wood in silence.

"He'll never make it," Tristan muttered as he watched the boy disappear into the late night. Gaia, who now stood next to Tristan, sighed and shook her head.

"He won't," she replied, "if you don't believe in him." Tristan turned a raised eyebrow upon this.

"You expect me to believe in a boy who thinks Carausiuswas British?"

Gaia scoffed as she set to work gathering her things, along with Tristan's. He stood watching her for a moment, feeling useless with a bandaged arm, and he decided he would not let this effect him.

He slipped away and found his stallion, Gaia's mare, and two Roman saddles. Ignoring the pain that suddenly seared in his arm, he managed to saddle and bridle both horses and lead them to where Gaia was now talking hastily with Arthur and several Woads who were tending to Horton. The commander smirked and nodded in Tristan's direction, and Gaia turned with a frown and wide eyes.

"I wish you would be a little less obstinate," she sighed as she walked to Tristan and took Latona's reins.

"Sorry to disappoint you," was his facetious reply as he swung himself onto the dark stallion.

"I'm certain you'll be thrilled," she added in the same sarcastic voice, "that Mister Horton will be well, given he is returned to the fort within the next few nights." Tristan did not respond to this, but only looked to the man and saw that he was already well bandaged and upon a horse. "Titania told me that Lancelot planned to leave him in the woods; to let him die." Again, there was no reply, no surprised expression within his eyes. Finally, Gaia got the nerve to ask him; "Would you have done the same?"

Tristan stared hard at her for a moment as they rode at an easy trot, saving the horses' speed for a moment. "You would be with me?" he asked with the shadow of a smirk, and Gaia nodded an indifferent yet affirmative nod. "In that case, I value my life far too much, Lady. No I would not have done the same."

* * *

_**A/N:** A slight bit of humor here at the end, I couldn't help it. I needed to lighten the mood, don't you think? Such drama! But onward they move. We'll have to see what happens to Galahad, and if Horton makes it to the fort. -insert dramatic Jaws music here- :) Thanks for reading!_


	18. Chapter 18

_**A/N:** A big gigantic plug to Ms Genova and her KA story, "His Little Warrior Princess". I read her fanfic and was quickly obsessing over the characters of this film once again. So now I come to you with another chapter, one full of emotion and a little bit of pain. All thanks to Ms G ;) Go read her story if you haven't already!_

* * *

The knights and woads moved as hastily as could be allowed for the horses that led it, going at a steady canter for the better part of the morning, and then slowing to a walk for the warmest time of the afternoon. It had been half the day since Galahad left the camp, and none had seen or heard tell of where he was. Arthur and Tristan had both spoken with the young knight, and even Aeron had provided the boy with useful tactics to maneuver the woods. The group had remained optimistic somehow, as if by a miracle, but now the snow began to fall and the chill began to increase.

Presently, Titania was walking sulkily alongside Arthur's horse, her feat hurting, but her heart aching more. She decided on walking beside Arthur because he seemed to be the one whose horse was farthest away from Lancelot. Aeron was walking farther ahead with some of his best men, searching for any sign of Galahad or the survivors. She took no chances in her love seeing her near the man he now presumed her lover.

"Would you like to ride," Arthur asked her softly, pulling Titania from her reverie of sorrow. His eyes were caring as he looked at her with the smallest of smiles.

"No, no," Titania replied, returning his smile. "But I thank you."

Arthur opened and closed his mouth several times, certain of the words but uncertain of whether or not to continue. "I apologize for the behavior of my knight, Titania," he said finally, his words causing the girl to flash her eyes quickly at him in a warning of silence.

"Please, Sir," she sighed as she looked forward to where Aeron was walking. "Don't let's speak of it, I beg you." She smiled then, and added, "but you have nothing to apologize in the matter of Lancelot's behavior."

"I have known Lancelot far longer than you, Lady," Arthur replied, still smiling. "I assure you that if he has not given you reason to seek an apology from me yet, you have only to wait and the moment will present itself."

* * *

Gaia and Tristan rode alongside eachother in silence, Tristan scanning the vast woodlands as best he could in search of Galahad or any survivors, and Gaia watching Titania uncertainly, feeling sorrow for her younger sister. Lancelot, who rode on Gaia's other side, was watching Titania as well, and Gaia shot him a warning look, which he only scoffed at.

"Jealous, Gaia," he asked with a smirk.

Gaia opened her mouth to retort, but was stopped by a raised hand by Tristan. He was staring intently at a point to his left and slowly stopped his destrier. He called to Arthur, who quickly made his way to where the scout was. Every knight and every woad had stopped in their tracks at the sign of action.

After a moment of incoherent whispers between commander and scout, Arthur rode slowly towards the place Tristan had acknowledged.

"Gaia," Tristan whispered, "I cannot fire. Get an arrow." His voice was calm as it always was, but his eyes suggested that whatever Arthur was riding towards, it was something deathly serious.

Gaia nodded and cautiously loaded an arrow into her bow, pulling the string taught, but remembering to keep the bow out of site until the last possibly moment as to gain the element of surprise on her victim.

Arthur continued on a way and suddenly his massive form atop his horse halted. He dismounted and knelt beside something Gaia could not even begin to make out. Arthur leapt up and called for Dagonet, who was quickly at his commander's aide.

Tristan turned his eyes back to Gaia and whispered, "Go". Gaia dismounted her mare and ran on foot, her heart pounding intensely against her chest. Whatever Arthur had discovered did not frighten her as much as the look she had received from Tristan, the hasty tone of his voice. For the first time she heard the hint of fear in his usually-calm rustic voice. He did not hide the worry on his features, or even attempt to. It was Tristan, raw and emotional, as she had never seen him before. And it frightened her more than anything.

She reached Arthur in a state of heaving breath and weak limps, and she felt she would faint from what she saw. Laying on the ground in a heap so disheveled and distorted you would not think him to be alive, was Galahad. Blood was as dirt, coating every inch of ground around him. He was unconscious, as one would expect a man to be in this unfortunate state. It seemed as though every bone in his legs were broken, his form completely mutilated. Gaia felt her legs give out as she sank to her knees beside his body, which Dagonet was attempting to pick up. Aeron had come following Gaia and helped to support Galahad as his men worked their magic on the trees they knew so well, easily crafting a portal hammock for the young knight.

Arthur kneeled beside Gaia and held her face in his hands, urging her to look in his eyes. She fought the urge to be sick and looked at her commander in horror.

"Gaia," he urged, "tell me you are well!" His eyes were red and his face strained with tears. Gaia choked back a sob and nodded her head. He then moved her into an embrace. It was as if a wave of well-being and hope was washing over him just from holding her again. He was frightened and sorry and unnerved beyond a point he thought he would ever be, and he was finally giving in to his desire to hold her despite her attachment to Tristan. He could not go on, he thought, without holding her and this was the final threshold, he had sent a man to his death. It was his fault that Galahad was closer to the next life than the current. Perhaps the thought that made him feel even more disturbed was that it could have been Gaia who was on her deathbed. If it hadn't been for Tristan's obstinacy, Gaia would undoubtedly be dead at that very moment.

Gaia must have been thinking the same thought because she suddenly began to sob uncontrollably and her body began to tremble as she clung to him harder, her fingers intertwined in his dark curls. He struggled to breathe as he held her, his heart breaking with every cry she gave, knowing that he had no right to comfort her as he was. Her actions brought back bittersweet memories of midsummer past when he had taken her in after finding her beaten on the road south of Hadrian's Wall; of when he had carried her to the pub at the fort on Midsummer's Day so that she could join in the festivities. Those were the times when she had depended only on him, before Lancelot, before Tristan.

"Arthur," came the voice the Roman had not wanted to hear, retrieving him from his reverie and from the passionate moment of holding the woman he loved. Slowly, Arthur gently forced Gaia away and nodded to where Tristan stood, only feet away, his bandaged arm barely a weakness. He had dismounted and walked quickly to Gaia after seeing her fall to the forestfloor, but was uncertain of what action to take when Arthur pulled his beloved into such an embrace. Now, Gaia saw Tristan and fresh tears came. She managed to stand and stumbled to him, quickly excepting the one arm he had to enfold her and hugging him in a threateningly lethal grasp.

Arthur wiped his eyes and stood, his emotions running rampantly throughout him, unchecked. She was gone, he thought as he walked past the couple to where Dagonet was examining Galahad on the bed of wood and leaf.

"Gaia," Tristan whispered to her, but she cut him off.

"Why did it have to be him?" she said through her sobs, "It shouldn't have been him!"

"I know," Tristan replied soothingly as he kissed her forehead. "It should have been me."

Gaia stopped her crying immediately and stared at the knight in horror. He instantly regretted his words as she gaped at him in realization. Then she seemed to fight with emotions and thoughts before she finally met his gaze once more.

"There's only one scout left," she said pointedly, "and I will do whatever it takes to see that you are free men."

* * *

_**A/N:** A wee bit of drama in this one, eh? I hope I did alright with all the emotions. A good deal of it was Arthur. Is this a good thing? I'm sorry to any Arthur/Guin fans if it seems like Guinevere doesn't have a decent role in this story yet, but she's coming, I promise. Anyway, all this drama! Galahad wounded, Gaia off to find Alecto and freedom? Thanks so much for reading, an update will come soon, I promise you won't be in the dark for long ;)_


	19. Chapter 19

**_A/N: _**_An update! Glory be! Apologies on that. I won't banter and just let you read..._

* * *

Pandemonium wrapped itself liberally around the group of knights and woads as they began to lose hope of regaining possession of Marius  
and his family. For the knights, this loss meant the loss of their freedom and for the woads it meant the loss of their sacred land.

Presently, Aeron had sent his best men into the woods to retreat and retrieve Merlin, in hopes that the wizard could work his magic on the wounded secretary and the knight who danced so threatening close to death. Gaia had left Tristan's embrace and was mounting her mare, attempting to keep a countenance while Tristan muttered profanities and forbade her from leaving the group. She knew this was something she had to do, Alecto had to be found. She had fought alongside these men for a year and every killing she made was for them. She would not see her sins confirmed by failure.

"Tristan I beg you to be lenient," she sighed, finally having to speak up over his foul language. "Alecto needs to be found."

"Then let someone else do it," Tristan replied. "Don't do this." Then, in a near whisper, "Don't leave me."

Gaia felt a lump in her throat and swallowed hard, blinking back the tears. She reached down from atop Latona and placed her hand on his tattooed cheek. He reached up with his good arm to put his hand over hers. His eyes were dark with passion and worry, the latter of which Gaia knew she had never before seen of him.

"Believe in the scout you have made me to be," she whispered as she leaned down and kissed him gently. He was silent for a long moment, staring at her intently, fighting the emotions inside him.

"Go," he said finally and stepped away from the mare and its rider. With one last deep breath, Gaia applied pressure to Latona's side and the horse responded, jumping into a quick canter.

She rode swiftly through the men, catching site of Lancelot and Arthur as she passed, noting the surprised and horrified glances she got from them as she rode to what appeared to be her doom.

* * *

As she rode cautiously through the woods, Gaia tried to remember everything Tristan had taught her in the past year. She could hear his voice in her head, see him in her mind, and this made concentrating even more difficult. She knew the chance was good that she would never see him again, she would never see any of them again. No goodbye to Arthur or Lancelot or Bors or Gawain or Galahad or Dagonet. No last words with Titania. Her last conversation with Guinevere and Merlin was full of words exchanged in anger. This was not the way she wanted her life to end.

And so she attempted to concentrate, focusing on the scene around her. It was dark, as it always seemed to be in the woods, with never a ray of sunshine. She let her eyes work on every tree, scanning every branch for the slightest article of importance. Nothing. She rode cautiously, slowly, as her mind strained to push the memories of her friends away. She ignored the feeling of absolute loneliness that was tugging on her sleeve.

The wood became suddenly deathly silent, as if no soul could possibly be alive in the near. A wind blew through Gaia's simple tunic and she immediately felt an unwelcome chill. Even Latona seemed to be uneasy beneath her, snorting cautiously and pricking her ears forward alertly.

Gaia held her breath and brought an arrow from her quiver to rest on her bow by her side. The wood was eerie and not at all the same place she had grown up in. This was a completely foreign world.

Suddenly, Latona raised her neck and snorted loudly, halting quickly, which resulted in Gaia fumbling to keep balance. A form had appeared on the road ahead. Gaia whipped her bow out and held the arrow taught on the string. She lowered her bow, however, when she recognized the man who stood before her.

"Father," she sighed as Merlin walked to the mare's side, petting her face gently.

"It is time you came to look for your own," he replied bitterly.

"I came," she responded, "to look for Alecto."

"And you found him," Merlin returned. "Come," he motioned and walked into the woods without a word, Gaia dismounting Latona and leading the mare behind.

* * *

Arthur gaped as he watched Gaia ride away from the group, his heart breaking into a thousand pieces. He remembered what it felt like to hold her moments ago, and now he watched her ride away without a word, possibly to her death. He could not think on the fact that he may never see her again. It was inconceivable.

His gaze wound to find Tristan in the mess of woads and knights. His injured scout was watching the path Gaia had taken with intense eyes. It was as if Tristan knew she would round the bend at any moment and come back to him. It pained Arthur to see his knight in such denial.

Arthur was awakened from his thoughts by a hand on his own and he turned to see Guinevere standing beside him. She, too, was watching the path Gaia had just disappeared down

"Our last words were in anger," she said thoughtfully as she continued to stare into the distance. "And now she risks her life to save you, the men she loves." There was a deep silence which rang with regret. "I only wish I could see her once more, to tell her how proud I am of her."

* * *

"One of the Sarmatians is injured," Gaia called to her father as they wound through the dirt and bracken-strewn roads. "Aeron sent his men out to find you in hopes of healing him."

"I cannot heal him," Merlin returned in an indifferent tone. This reminded her of the same tone Lancelot must have taken when discussing Horton in the woods with Titania.

"We have a knight like you," Gaia spoke, not caring if her father listened, but happy to realize she was not going to die, at least not yet. "He is a strong-willed man, Lancelot is, with an obstinacy beyond contestation. Yet he has a heart, it only takes time to find it. Do you know where I found it? I found it when he was speaking of his homeland. Much like when you spoke of Briton, father. I don't doubt you remember the night you preformed the _mírë_ on me and attempted my doom?" Merlin did not reply but continued to walk in silence. "Well, he saved me that night, Lancelot. He woke me."

"I must remember to thank him," Merlin replied bitterly under his breath.

* * *

_**A/N: **eh he he he he. I can't really see Merlin saying that, I have to be honest, but it felt right. Gotta go with feelings ;) So was this too cliche or am I doing alright?  
_


	20. Chapter 20

_**A/N:** More! Yay! I have a little gift on my profile page for all you King Arthur fans. Do with it what you wish ;) Anyway, thanks for the reviws. For anybody that's into the Aeron/Titania/Lancelot triangle, you'll be interested, I think. Onward!_

* * *

Titania walked slowly through the depth of the wood, far off from the camp but not afraid. She knew the wood as it was her home. Presently, silver tears ran down her cheeks and her stunning blonde hair was mussed and wet by the rain that currently streamed like a waterfall. Her brilliant blue dress was torn and faded and her feet ached. She cried as she remembered her sister and how she had not gotten the chance to say goodbye before Gaia rode off so rashly. It brought such pain to her heart to think that Gaia may not return. Titania had always thought, deep down in her heart of hearts, that Gaia would bring a sort of spiritual and emotional balance to the Woads and the Knights and People of England. And to see that dream ride away without a backward glance was a strong blow to her already injured heart.

As she walked, Titania did not notice the quiet man who followed her. She continued to weep as she walked, but finally her tears overtook her and she collapsed to her knees by a large oak tree and sobbed into her hands. The tall handsome man was immediately, silent as he placed a hand to her arm. She started and brought her hands down, ceasing her tears and staring into his face with fright.

"I am sorry," Aeron said softly. "I know you loved her."

"_Love_ her, Aeron. She is not dead yet!" Titania replied with a touch too much bitterness than she would have liked. She immediately apologized with a sigh and a shake of her head.

"Do not fret," he replied as he placed his large hand on her cheek, wiping away the bright tears. "I understand. My behavior has not been decent of late," he added in a voice that sounded much like a desperate apology mixed with self-contempt. "I can only offer you my sorrow on that."

"You can do far more," she cut in, shaking her head and taking his hands. "You can forgive _me_ once and for all. You can put this matter behind us."

Aeron sighed and looked away. "I cannot erase the vision," he said placidly. "It hurt me as much as this all hurts you."

"But you can help my hurt," Titania argued roughly, fresh tears arriving. "And I can help yours! Do not allow me to be consumed by this, Aeron! Is it not enough that Gaia has left now? If you care not, leave me, by all means," her voice was now a scream as she rose to her feet and stared down at the man on the ground. The rain still came in torrents, darkening the scene immensely. "Leave me here," she continued in a screeching scream, "to drown my sorrows like a fool! Show me no light in this world!"

Aeron rose and swiftly took the shaking girl in his arms. Her breathing was coming in gasps now as her crying was too much for her and she looked pale as a summer moon and ready to faint. He held her in silence, the rain pounding unflinchingly upon them both, until he could feel her relaxing. Then, he pulled away and smiled a small smile down on her.

"You are not a fool, my love," he said softly before kissing her. "And if you are a fool, I suppose it is true that you are _my_ fool and I take full responsibility of your folly."

Titania stared at him in silence, but a brilliant light had come into her eyes upon his embrace and she nearly shrilled in happiness of having him to hold her once more.

* * *

It seemed an eternity that Gaia followed her father through the woods, wordlessly save for the moments when she impatiently asked him when they would be arriving to wherever it is he was taking her, to which questions he gave no response. The forest was growing brighter and so it appeared Gaia had been riding half the night. It was strange that, even after living in a wood all her life, this wood, that it would seem so completely foreign to her, courtesy of her past year at the citadel.

Presently, Merlin led Gaia to a clearing in the woods. The trees curved to shadow the entire piece of empty land and evade any ray of sunshine that could possibly attempt to work its way into the forest. As Gaia entered the clearing she was greeted with several faces, among them Jols, and most importantly, Alecto Honorius. Gaia immediately embraced Jols, her brother-in-arms and dear friend, and then rushed to Alecto and inspected the boy for any sign or injury. Finding none, she turned to Merlin.

"How did you save these people," she asked, clearly shocked.

"Do you not know my strengths, daughter?" Merlin replied with a smile.

"The Saxons are brutal, we fought them several nights ago. They come for Alecto Honorious, they would not have easily given him up!" She followed her father as he walked around the clearing, speaking with various soldiers. Finally, he turned to his daughter with warm eyes.

"The fervor you show for these men," he said lightly, shaking his head. "I am only glad you are not against me in this war." He paused for a moment, watching his daughter, before deciding to answer her questions. "I do still have the power of foresight in me, Gaia," he said calmly, leaning on his walking stick. "And I will not see my land come into the hands of Saxon barbarians."

"Merlin found us about an hour before the Saxons came," Jols cut in, a weary smile upon his face. "We owe him our lives." He nodded to the wizard before moving on and preparing his things.

Gaia stared at her father for a long moment in disbelief. "So this is it, then?" She asked softly. "This is the end of the fight between the men of the citadel and the Woads?"

Merlin slowly nodded. "It is," he said at length, "if the men of the citadel would have it."

A smile crept onto Gaia's face and she nearly laughed at the thought of the two peoples being joined. It was a wild thing she could not imagine.

"I don't understand," she said after a moment, "we found the secretary Horton in the woods. He was near death! And one of the Sarmatians, Galahad, is wounded-"

"You told me," Merlin replied with a smirk. "I did listen to you, my daughter, impossible though it is to believe. Horton was a brave man. He chose to offer his life for the safety of the young Honorius child."

"So," Gaia said, slowly comprehending, "You took Alecto and his family, brought them here, and set the others out with a decoy wagon?" A nod from Merlin confirmed this. "That's murder!" Gaia fumed. "You could have killed them all! How so many of them survived," she sighed as you looked around. It seemed they had only lost perhaps ten villagers and Roman soldiers.

"They did not risk their lives to protect the carriage," Merlin replied. "The Saxons retrieved what they sought and left the others for dead."

Gaia was silent as all this sank in. _Retrieved what they sought_? But Alecto was here. Who, then, did they get? Realization hit her like a brick. "Horton! Dear Horton, you put him in the carriage, didn't you? You made _him_ the decoy for Alecto!" Merlin's eyes danced at her realization and he did not need to nod in affirmation, she already knew.

"He must have been found out," Gaia sighed, "but why would they not have killed him and come back for the real Alecto?" She rubbed her head furiously where a headache began to pound.

"You need rest, Gaia," Merlin replied. "Take no worry of the Saxons at present."

"I cannot rest, I need to return to Tristan!" Gaia suddenly realized she had no reason to be away from him and began to walk back to where Latona was happily munching grass. Merlin followed his daughter and frowned as she mounted.

"You are tired, daughter," he said firmly. "These people will return with you, but you must rest."

"Galahad is _dying_," Gaia spat at her father as she held tight her reins. "I am not so liberal with the lives I risk as you, father." She turned her mare around and looked at the remaining women, children, and men. "The Sarmatian knights are not far from here," Gaia spoke loudly to them all. "If we leave now we can reach them well within the day."

"Do not do this, daughter," Merlin said calmly. "You will need your strength before the end."

"If I do not take these people now," Gaia returned heatedly, "the end will come far sooner than even you can foresee."

* * *

_**A/N:** It's not over with Titania and Lancelot! Don't worry! Drama shall abound! Hope you liked._


	21. Chapter 21

_**A/N:** you'll never guess which movie I'm watching as I make this update ;) I'm obsessed, what can I say? Anyway, I'm curious to see what everyone has to say after this chapter. Some interesting occurances, I think..._

* * *

Arthur walked around the dark camp with a heavy heart, a somber Guinevere at his side. He felt so much pain and hurt inside him, and he knew the lady beside him was feeling the same emotions. Though Arthur had not sent Gaia out himself, he felt like he had sent her to her death, and that the lives of both Gaia and Galahad (not to mention Horton and any others that hade died in the Saxon ambush) were all bloody on his Roman hands. He felt filthy and tired, and the realization of all this made him feel even filthier and even more tired. He felt, too, that he had betrayed his scout with every emotion he had every felt for Gaia. His insides seemed to scream with so many feelings and expressions, none of which he could sort out and provoke to mind.

Guinevere could see the fight Arthur was having with himself, she could see it in his features, feel it when she touched his hand. She did not know how to help him, and she was fighting a battle of guilt with herself. She felt hopeless and strong with regret. The one emotion that mixed with all her others was one of want for Arthur. Never would she have expected to feel so drawn to him, and especially now that Gaia was gone. She knew he would not be able to love another woman, not now, but she felt like screaming and crying and laughing every time she was near him; and though she never felt that she was wizened to emotions and feelings and psychology, she knew this was not normal, not simple, not something to be handled brazenly.

"Aeron's men have not returned with news of Merlin," she said finally, breaking the heavy silence between them. Arthur looked down on her with weary eyes and nodded. Guinevere sighed and looked at the ground in uncertainty. "Arthur," she said at length once more, her eyes still on the ground, "I know it is hard for you to lose her," and Arthur stiffened at these words, "but perhaps it would be easier on both our minds to look forward. If she does not return, we can not stay here forever."

Arthur sighed and nodded once more, but this time he spoke as well. "I would know you to be so forthright, Guinevere," he said with the shadow of a smile, albeit forced. "You are so much like her in that way."

Guinevere could not help but smile slightly as Arthur placed his massive hand on her porcelain cheek. Then, without thinking, Arthur leaned down and caught her lips in a passionate kiss, to which Guinevere responded fervidly. Neither thought about what they were doing or who could see them. They only thought about each other, not of Gaia, not of anything else, as they slowly made their way to Arthur's small tent, clinging to the last vision of light in their dark worlds.

* * *

As Gaia rode atop her chestnut mare, she reveled in every breath she took, took heart in every birdcall that graced her ears. She felt a desire to live that she had not felt in a long time. It pained her that Galahad was in such a condition and she felt so thrilled to be alive, she did not think it fair, but the thought of one person was enough to override any painful feelings: she would be seeing Tristan again and soon.

It seemed a lifetime that they walked at a sluggish pace, which did not thrill Gaia, but she knew she must take time for the villagers, women and children who were not at all used to life outside the fortress of Marius Honorius. Marius, Fulciana, and Alecto were without a carriage, and few of their Roman guards had survived, most of them just enough to risk their lives to protect the battle-intolerant villagers from any cruel fate.

Presently, however, the path began to widen and Gaia knew that meant the slightly clearing where the knights had stopped was just ahead. She immediately glanced into the trees in search of Woads on lookout, but found nothing. Her heart quickened. Had they moved on somewhere where she could not find them? Had they already given her up for dead?

She spurred Latona to a faster pace, leaving the villagers slightly behind, and was thrilled to see the trees part a short distance away and blue creatures moving about, fires burning. She sighed happily as she halted Latona, waiting for the slow moving group of survivors. Jols, however, could see from his position on the ground the fire in her eyes, the pure elation.

"Go to your knight," he said with a smile. "We will be right behind you."

Gaia beamed a smile that threatened to split her face and asked Latona to walk on. The mare responded at an even pace and Gaia moved her into a swift canter. She looked back over her shoulder every now and then and noticed she was growing uncomfortably far ahead from the group, so she would slow and wait for them every now and again, Jols shaking his head and laughing at the woman who seemed so like a girl at the moment.

Finally, Latona broke into the clearing, a serious-faced Gaia upon her back. Any movement in the camp had immediately ceased and everyone stared at her as if she was a ghost. Then, in a way that made the entire scene look purely Divine, every surviving servant and serf came ushering from the trees, running to the knights and Woads and relishing in the safety the found there. First, of course, had been Alecto and his parents, and so every knight seemed to breathe freely as they had not breathed freely before.

Gaia locked eyes with Tristan as the nearly two dozen people moved hastily around her. The scout did not seem to believe it was her, and only stared with his mouth agape before his lips crept into the smallest of smiles. Gaia responded to this with a beaming smile and quickly made to dismount.

As she hit the ground, the pandemonium around her became truly visible, but she left the chestnut mare and ran blankly through the crowd, knowing she would reach him nonetheless. She could see him finally: sans his armor, his arm still tied gingerly round. His entire being was as it always had been, ruthless and raw, but there was a kindness now shining like a halo around him.

In moments the two were embracing. Gaia wrapped her arms forcefully around his stomach and he had responded with his arms around her shoulders. She immediately rested her head on hischest and began to shed tears of happiness. He only continued to hold her wordlessly for an eternity.

"How the hell did you do that," he finally whispered to her after they had embraced in silence for a long moment. He received no reply. "Gaia," he questioned, pulling away from her, but she only fell forward onto his shoulders once more, peacefully asleep.

* * *

_**A/N:** I loved the ending of this chapter. I couldn't help it. It's so random and innocent. So completely Gaia. At least, in my opinion in it. But, Guin and Arthur were a bit too random in the beginning here, I think. I didn't want to bore the reader, but I didn't want to lack on description of their feelings, you know? In the end, they found love in their suffering and guilt. Let me know what you think, and kindly, I beg you. :) And thank you so so much for the reviews, you're all incredible!_


	22. Chapter 22

_**A/N: **So I'm hoping to make the relationship between Guin and Arthur slightly more clear here. Let me know how I do, please. And I apologize for the delay in this update. I wanted it to be as close to perfect as possible. wink_

* * *

Arthur walked through the camp in search of Guinevere, his mind a whirl of emotions, this time centering strictly around one beautiful Woad woman. He finally found her outside the lines of camp, sitting quietly on her own, a far-off look on her face.

"Guinevere," he whispered as he sat beside her cautiously. She turned her eyes upon him and seemed not to recognize him for a moment. Then she blinked and seemed to come back to reality.

"What do you want?" she asked flatly, her eyes flashing slightly.

Arthur was taken aback by this and opened his mouth awkwardly, but no words came out. "Last night," he began finally, but she cut across him quickly.

"Last night was a dream," she stated. "You were not thinking clearly and your emotions were not focused. It meant nothing."

"No," Arthur persisted, taking her hands and looking into her eyes. "For so long I've thought that Gaia was the only one, and that I lost her and any chance for love." He saw Guinevere blink back tears and could feel her hands trembling slightly beneath his. "I realize it now," he continued; "I was meant to find you. We were meant to be, always." He sighed and hesitated before adding the thing that was heaviest on his heart. "Yes, I did rash things last night because of the feeling of losing someone, but in that rashness I found a love greater than any I've felt before. It is in you, Guinevere, not Gaia, that my heart has found its rightful place."

Guinevere was silent as small tears cascaded lightly down her cheeks. She placed a hand on Arthur's deep Roman face, her fingers tracing every feature. They were both silent as they exchanged small smiles and Arthur leaned down to caress her lips with his, the newest and deepest freedom he had ever felt washing over him: the feeling of deepest love.

* * *

Jols had wasted no time in informing Arthur and Aeron of every second's events since he left the men at the river's edge. He told of how Merlin had found them and how Horton had been set as the decoy (at which point in his retelling Lancelot smirked widely) and how the battle had wore on until the Saxons had captured "Alecto" ("We could not very well just let them have him," Jols had explained; "They would have known something was amiss"). And so on went the conversation, and before long the entire company of Woad and Knight knew every detail of the events that had taken place with the Honorius family and their servants.

Presently, Lancelot was sitting by the large fire, smiling as he watched Lucan animatedly retell the story of the battle which he had seen from a nearby tree. The young boy seemed to exude energy, making every knight of the company feel full of this strange fervor. His eyes wandered, however, across the fire to where Titania was sitting beside Aeron in silence. It had been bandied to him that the couple had made up after Gaia had left, but this news was not going to stop him from reaching for a prize he knew he wanted more than any other.

Titania could feel Lancelot's pressing gaze, but only moved closer beside Aeron and looked at the ground as her lover spoke fervidly with Arthur, Jols, and Marius. She could imagine the sneering smile on Lancelot's face as he dared her to raise her gaze to his. But she would not look at him. She could not look at him. It was _his_ rash actions that had gotten her estranged from Aeron in the first place, and now that she had him back she would not let Lancelot ruin her life again. She told herself this in her mind, but saying something and doing something are too very different things and she soon found herself slowly raising her eyes and meeting his incessant stare.

Her face turned red as the smile on Lancelot's face widened tenfold and his eyes worked up and down her figure teasingly. She immediately looked down once more, but her heartbeat had quickened and she knew she could not stand to feel his presence any longer. She placed her hand on Aeron's arm in order to get his attention.

"I'm going to see to Gaia," she said as she rose from her seat. She attempted to sound as calm as possible, but her crimson makeup gave her away and quickly.

"Is everything alright?" he asked upon noting her face. His eyes immediately scanned the massive camp and found Lancelot across the fire. The two mens' eyes met and Aeron fumed as Lancelot smirked wickedly, his eyes traveling back to Titania. Aeron rose from his seat and Titania could see him tense, his eyes burning with hate.

"Aeron," she said sternly, drawing him from his trance as she reached up and placed a hand on his cheek. "Everything is fine. I am going to see how Gaia fares" Aeron stared blankly at her for a long moment before he seemed to capitulate. He kissed her and she walked silently away.

As she left, Aeron's eyes went back to Lancelot as he regained his seat. He was not a man to harm the innocent, and though Lancelot had not attempted anything at the moment and only mocked, Aeron found himself wanting little more than to leap across the fire and pelt Lancelot in the jaw.

* * *

Titania walked to the small tent that had served as Arthur's bedchamber, where Gaia was currently sleeping along with the horribly wounded Galahad. She smiled as she remembered watching her sister come back only this afternoon and seeing her rush into Tristan's embrace only to fall into a deep sleep. Titania had no doubt Gaia would be wearied with stress and anxiety, with all the emotions provoked since Galahad was found. She did not expect her sister to be awaken yet, and did not plan on waking her, but it was the only thing she could think of that would get her away from Lancelot.

Presently, she spotted Tristan sitting on the ground outside the tent, silently stroking the head of his beautiful hawk. He was staring ahead of him, deep in thought, but being the excellent scout he was, he took not of Titania's soft footsteps.

"Please, Sir Knight," Titania whispered, raising a hand as Tristan had begun to stand. She only sat down beside him as he regained his seat and looked at her with curious eyes. "Forgive me," she said with a smile as she watched Tristan's hand begin stroking the bird once more. "I know you prefer to be alone, but it seems your knight, Lancelot, does not understand that the cessation of persistence is a wonderful thing."

Tristan let out the lightest of laughs. "Don't tell me he tried something again?"

"Oh, no, he did not _try_ anything," Titania smirked. "He has a way of entering a person thoughts from across a campfire, it would seem."

"He does," Tristan replied. The two were silent for a moment before Titania asked the question that had eaten at her most of all.

"Did he and Gaia really court?" she asked, nervousness striking her slightly, uncertain of what the scout's reaction would be.

He sighed and leaned his head against the canvas of the tent for a moment, looking into what would have been the sky if the trees did not form a ceiling over all the woodlands. He smirked remembering the stars Gaia had shown him on their first meeting; the day he fell in love with her. "They were taken with eachother," he replied finally, turning his eyes upon Titania and watching her expression carefully. "I've never seen Lancelot so hellbent on getting what he wanted." He laughed again, as close to a laugh as one so silent as Tristan got. "Gaia was intrigued, certainly; but she never did let on to him that she was. She always kept him at arm's length."

"Why?" Titania asked quickly, but instantly regretted her words as Tristan raised his eyebrows. "Of course, you are the reason," she added as she blushed and looked away. "I only meant.." but she did not want to _say_ what she meant. She truly wondered why Gaia would turn down the affection of one as charming as Lancelot. She wanted to know more about the man and if his inquiries after her were just.

"Lancelot is a good many things," Tristan said softly, inwardly sighing in frustration with the brazen knight, "but not a liar. A lot of things, but never a liar." The scout hesitated before adding, "He's just as taken with you as he appears."

Titania's eyes shot up at these words and she grew slightly pale. Tristan had anticipated this reaction, but could do nothing to comfort her. She looked back down and said at length, "Am I so frivolous with my affection?"

Tristan watched her carefully. He was not accustomed to being asked his opinion. Even Gaia knew his desire to go unquestioned and respected it. But Titania seemed to be the less-observant of the two sisters, however just as gentle-hearted. "No," he said finally. "You must understand," he added when Titania looked as if she didn't believe him, "that when Lancelot sights a prize, he usually lets us all know about it. And it is not by any fault of the woman. She is simply cursed with his favour."

"I see," Titania chuckled. "And these prizes," she inquired, "with the exception of Gaia, does he, usually achieve the goals for which he strives?"

Tristan started straight into her eyes as he answered "yes".

* * *

_**A/N: **Dun dun dun! I got into writing Tristan here. I hope he didn't get too out of character. When he only has so many lines in the movie it makes it a bit harder, you know? Ah, the Lancelot-Titania-Aeron drama is not yet over. And Guin and Arthur are officially together! I hope it gives the right effect. Not entirely sure if I like it yet. Anyway, next chapter: Gaia wakes up! and a little more focus on our poor Galahad. Enjoy!_


	23. Chapter 23

_**A/N: **a rather quick update! But I won't be online for a week or so, so I figured I could do with one more chapter. You all are going to hate me for it, though, because this one's full of cliffhangers, I think. Anyway, enjoy. Guin.Gaia rival fans, get ready!_

* * *

The light of the morning seemed to blind Gaia even with her eyes closed, disturbing her much-needed sleep. She groaned as she attempted to shield her eyes from the onslaught of unwanted rays, and then suddenly remembered she was back with the knights, or she had been before everything went black. The last thing she remembered was being held by Tristan when she returned with the Romans but that seemed so much a dream that she questioned it's reality.

"Morning, sleeping beauty," came a voice beside her and she attempted to open her eyes, seeing Gawain sitting quietly on the side of her cot.

"Gawain," Gaia squealed as realization hit her and she sat up on her bed. "What in the hell-how long have I-" but the girl's inquiries were interrupted as someone pulled open the tent's linen doorway, unleashing a new rain of light to Gaia's eyes, to which she covered her face once more. "Bloody hell" was all she could murmur.

"Gaia," came a familiar voice and she immediately opened her eyes again, seeing Tristan walk into the tent with lucid eyes, Titania standing in the doorway behind him. He sat quickly on the other side of the bed and she wasted no time in enveloping him in a warm hug.

"Oh, Gaia," Titania quelled as she made her way further into the tent, "I was sick with worry."

"How long was I asleep?" Gaia asked as she stifled a yawn with the back of her hand, her eyes moving from Tristan to Titania to Gawain.

"You returned yesterday," Tristan replied, "about twelve o'clock, it must have been."

"And Galahad?" she questioned anxiously. "Is he alright?"

There was a sickening silence between the three people who were currently shooting uncertain glances all round. Gaia felt her stomach flip inside out and her heartbeat quicken.

"He's alright," she insisted, but still got no reply. "He's not dead!" she shouted finally, unable to bear the silence.

"He's not dead," Gawain replied softly. "But we don't think we can save him."

Gaia did not let it sink in. "Nonsense," she said hastily. "Look at what Dr. Mancomn did for me. He can certainly heal Galahad. We only need to reach the citadel-"

"We're not going to the fort, Gaia," Tristan said in a stoic tone, causing Gaia's blood to run cold. "Arthur decided. We are turning back, returning to the fortress of Marius Honorius. The Saxons are too close and we cannot evade them to the south. We have no other choice."

"Hell, Tristan!" Gaia cried as she threw off her blankets and stood from her cot, walking pointedly out of the tent and not thinking of the fact that she was wearing nothing but one of Bors' tunics and a thin pair of her own trousers.

Tristan followed her in silence, a knowing look on his face, while Titania and Gawain raised eyebrows to one another.

Gaia stalked through the camp, taking no notice of those who called to her and welcomed her back. She only focused on one man as she strode through, and she found him sitting by his horse, deep in thought.

When Arthur saw Gaia, his heartbeat quickened and he immediately rose from the ground, giving her an adoring look, but muting it when he saw the daggers form in the eyes of his scout who followed Gaia at a distance.

"What the _hell_ is going on," Gaia snapped as she approached the Roman, whose face fell instantly.

"Gaia," he began, but she cut across him and took his hand in earnest.

"Arthur," she said slowly, "we have to move."

"I spoke about this with Guinevere," Arthur replied and Gaia's breath caught in her chest as her commander pulled his hand away and avoided her gaze. She sighed and closed her eyes, nodded, and then opened them once more.

"I see," she said, but it came out in a gasped whisper. Her face began to flame and though she tried to control her emotions, they soon overpowered her. Without a word she turned from Arthur and walked off, her eyes burning. Tristan grabbed her arm as she passed, stopping her. He did not need to speak, his eyes showed the uncertainty he felt.

"She has gone too far, Tristan." And with that she pulled away from him and walked on. It did not take her long to find Guinevere, who had been speaking with one of her people nearby. Gaia walked directly up to her, drew back her hand, and struck the unsuspecting Guinevere across the face, knocking her to the ground.

* * *

Titania paced outside the tent where Galahad was being tended. With every moment the knight seemed to be venturing closer to death. She did not know the knight, but felt a connection with him for he had taken in her sister, and this meant more to her than anything.

She felt a pair of eyes upon her from somewhere in the distance and she froze, shaking her head, knowing well whose eyes they were. When she looked in the direction, she saw Lancelot standing a ways away, leaning on a tree and watching her intently, his eyes dancing and his dark hair curly around his face.

Titania was discontented by this, with Tristan's words playing in her head constantly, and knowing Aeron was undoubtedly not very far away at all. She did not know that she had only to turn around and she would see him staring at her intensely, watching cautiously her every move.

She walked to where Lancelot stood, a smile playing across his face, and she suddenly felt the urge to slap him. And so she did. Lancelot drew his hand up and caught hers right before her porcelain palm collided with his perfect features. She frowned at not being able to achieve her goal, but Lancelot's smile only widened.

"Why do I deserve _that_, my dear?" he asked facetiously.

"One of your brothers is dying and you chose to still play coy. You are an ass, Lancelot!" she spat bitterly.

"Ah," Lancelot nodded, still holding her hand. He gently rubbed the soft skin of her thumb and brought her palm up to his lips where he kissed it tenderly. She melted as he did this, and though she wanted to fight it, she inwardly urged him to continue.

He took his other hand to bring her opposite palm up to his height and continued the same process of kissing the palm and each finger with utmost sweetness, until he felt her completely succumb to him, her eyes growing foggy. He then leaned down and swept his lips guiltily over hers, taken in her scent and every single thing about her. He loved her. A feeling he had never really known before. And now he was consuming her, body and soul. She gave in to him and returned his kisses passionately, forgetting herself completely.

He pulled away to flash her another mocking grin and she held back the urge to laugh at him. He seemed to draw out the happiness in her like nothing before. He could wield it to his fancy, but he always made her feel the most wonderful things.

She would not have felt so wonderful if she had seen the pain that shot across Aeron's face as he watched the scene from a distance. Rationality left him in a fleeting moment as he drew an arrow from his quiver and with rage in his eyes, loaded his bow.

* * *

_**A/N: **Ah, Lancelot. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. So we have a catfight between Gaia and Guinevere brewing (could you all see that one coming?) and now Lance and Aeron are in the runnings. Look out. Sorry it was short. But I hope you enjoyed anyways._


	24. Chapter 24

_**A/N:** Thank you, thank you, for the reviews. I don't doubt I'll disappoint a few with this next chapter, I have to say. But perhaps not. We'll have to see...  
_

* * *

Aeron felt a long breath escape him as he released the arrow and watched it soar through the air in the direction of his enemy. Lancelot had pulled Titania toward him once more and was whispering to her with a wicked smile. Aeron watched with a smile forming on his own face as the arrow found its way directly into Lancelot's right arm, knocking the knight to the ground.

Titania's scream echoed through the wild woods as her heart seemed to freeze and she looked down at the fallen knight. She immediately turned in the direction from which the arrow had come and saw a pleased Aeron moving away into the trees. Their eyes locked for a moment and Titania felt a pang of fear.

"Lancelot!" she heard Dagonet calling to the knight as he came running from out of nowhere. She heard him, but she could not see him. Her eyes were locked back to the man on the ground and she suddenly fell to her knees, shaking.

Dagonet immediately called for help and Bors aided him in carrying Lancelot to the same tent that held Galahad. Gawain, who had come at the sound of the scream, looked placidly at Titania, who seemed to be fighting with her insides, daring herself not to be sick. He shook his head and knelt beside her comfortingly.

"He'll be alright," Gawain said confidently. "He's overcome far worse, just ask Gaia. He was nearly killed last year and she set out to avenge him. Besides," he added with a knowing look, "your lover's aim was horribly off."

Titania's eyes shot up at this and Gawain flinched when he saw how pale her face was.

"Yes, I saw," he sighed, looking away from her. "But come. You had better be prepared to tame the stallion when he finds out who shot him." He didn't say another word as he helped her up and led her trembling form to the tent. She fought him slightly, pulling against his hold on her as they got nearer.

"Don't make me see him," she managed in a hysterical whisper. Her face had paled further and her trembling seemed to have worsened. Gawain looked angrily at her for a moment. He saw so much of Gaia in her; she wanted nothing more than to please everyone. But he also knew that Gaia would not have entertained Lancelot in the way Titania seemed to. It was all too much for him to endure, the fighting between allies that seemed to always happen around these women, and he was prepared to place the blame for that on just about anyone.

"You have little choice," he said sternly, knowing it was hurting her for him to be so cold. "You can either go inside that tent and comfort Lancelot, or you'd best find your lover and make amends with him. One man must be dealt with now."

Titania seemed to think on his words for a moment and after looking back to the freedom of the forest for some sort of help, she acquiesced and followed Gawain into the tent.

* * *

"What in the _hell_!" Guinevere was on the floor, her hand to her rapidly reddening cheek, as she glared up at Gaia. Gaia of whom looked more defiant than she ever had, though this did not hinder Guinevere's courage. She stood after a moment and awaited an explanation, which was a heated one on Gaia's part. 

"You," Gaia whispered as she stood only inches from Guinevere's face, "you're not even on our side! This was all a trap! Merlin had you _placed_ into our hands, didn't he?"

"What are you talking about?" Guinevere snapped in return.

"You know entirely too well what I'm talking about!" Gaia's voice was now a scream as she swept around and looked at her sister as if she was a traitor. "Merlin _placed_ you with us on his own accord. It was all an elaborate plan to warp Arthur's mind and so win over the courageous Sarmatian knights to join your sad little world of black magic and paganism!"

Guinevere's face seemed to pale in moments as Gaia spoke this. When she did not respond, the surrounding crowd grew slightly curious and murmurs arose. Arthur came forward quickly and stared a penetrating stare at Guinevere.

"Is this true?" he demanded in a horribly cold voice as he stood towering above the young woman. Guinevere's eyes swept from Gaia to Arthur with a flash of fear. "Speak!"

Guinevere jumped and began to shake slightly. She shook her head, but it was clear that this was not the case. Arthur's heartbeat quickened as he knelt down beside the defiantly silent Guinevere and took her hands in his.

"Guinevere," he said softly, desperately trying to hide the anger he felt, "is this true?"

Guinevere closed her eyes as a single tear cascaded down her cheek, the unfortunate affirmation of Arthur's question. Arthur's very blood seemed to freeze in his body as Guinevere avoided his gaze. He could not think. But the worst was yet to come.

"Arthur!" The Roman rose and turned sharply at the tone of urgency in Bors' voice. The brawny knight stalked quickly to his commander's side and met his gaze. Bors did not take the time to question the severe emotion that played across Arthus' face, nor Guinevere on the ground or Gaia trembling in fury, her fists clenched.

"Lancelot," Bors breathed, and it was all Arthur need to hear.

"Take me to him," was all he said before he and Bors disappeared down the hill to the tent that held the two biggest worries of Arthur: Galahad and Lancelot.

Gaia walked to Guinevere and stared at her placidly. She unsheathed her sword and held it to the Woad's chin. "Do you care for him at all? And the truth please, this time."

"Of course I care for him," Guinevere replied in a low growl as any sign of fear left her face and she forced Gaia's blade away with the back of her hand. She stood and towered over Gaia with death in her eyes. "This is not as it appears. You have no idea of the matter. I should very well slap you here and now."

"And why not," Gaia shot back with a malevolent glare; "I'm sure you're anxious to remember the feel of my flesh under your fury. It has been far too long since you last got your chance at me."

Guinevere's eyes lightened as the words hit her like a brick. She had worked hard to retrieve forgiveness from the matter of so long ago and now she had muffled the entire thing. She opened her mouth and closed it several times, at a loss for words. She could only stutter as Gaia turned violently and stalked away.

"It would be wise of you to share the _true_ story with Arthur," Gaia called back to her half-sister. "Very wise." And with that she left Guinevere, her mind changing from thoughts of Guinevere and betrayal to thoughts of Lancelot and, of course, Titania.

* * *

_**A/N: **I didn't like the beginning. I think I wrote this chapter over and over three or four times before I was finally somewhat content with it. Were you totally expecting the Guinevere thing, I have to know? Don't think her an evil character, though. She's got some good stuff coming up.  
_


	25. Chapter 25

_**A/N: **Ok, bad updater here. Hi! Seems like it's been a long time since I updated - I like to update all my stories at once, but I'm still tweaking the next chapter of my POTC fic so that'll be up in a while. Enjoy!_

* * *

Titania stood in the middle of the stuffy tent, her heart in her throat as Dagonet worked furiously at tending to the wounded Lancelot. She could not stand the sight of the curly-haired knight's blood pouring profusely from the wound where Dagonet had managed to remove the arrow, but the smell was perhaps the worst. Ointments mixed with the smell of blood and sweat and the rustic wood around them were all far too much for her. She only prayed she would not pass out before Lancelot came to.

"Alright," Dagonet said finally, having wrapped the wound and stepping away from Lancelot's form on a small cot. "He'll be alright. Just give him time." He turned to where Titania stood, Gawain behind her, his eyes stern. He opened his mouth to question what had happened, but was interrupted by Arthur and Bors coming into the tent in a fury.

"What happened?" was the first question out of Arthur's mouth when he saw the wounded knight. It did his heart little well to see Galahad still unconscious on the cot next to him. His eyes went to Dagonet, then Gawain, and finally to Titania. She did not want to talk about it, but she knew she had to. She relied the story to Arthur, Bors and Dagonet, during which time Gaia and Tristan slid silently in.

"So it was Aeron who did this?" Arthur asked with wide eyes. "It seems the Woads are not as trusting as we thought." His voice was bitter and cold.

"Please, Sir," Titania pleaded in a squeaking voice, "he did not know what he was doing. This entire situation is my own fault and I beg you to forgive me of my foolishness."

"It was not only you, Titania," Gaia spoke up. "How long has Merlin been planning to corrupt Arthur through Guinevere?"

Titania's eyes went wide and her mouth hung open in a gaping motion.

"Yes we know," Gaia sighed. "How long?"

"It was only since he saw that Arthur saved Guinevere from that hell in Marius' dungeon," Titania said in a pleading voice. "And if I may say," she added, her eyes locking with Arthur's, "Guinevere was not agreeable of following such a plan. But father did not mean ill! It may seem wrong, but he wants only for the fighting between Roman and Sarmatian and Woad to end. He wants us to share this country. He thinks Arthur is destined to rule, to bring a balance to mankind."

There was a heavy silence after her last words. Gaia had known Merlin believe that Arthur was destined for such greatness, but she never planned on the wizard's intentional interference to come in the shape of Guinevere. And it was hard to simply forgive Guinevere for the lie she had kept, though Gaia knew in her heart that her half-sister really felt some emotion for Arthur.

After a long moment, Bors and Dagonet silently left the tent. Tristan took Gaia's hand in his and motioned for her to leave Arthur in quiet. She acquiesced, but not before whispering to Arthur:

"Perhaps you should allow Guinevere to explain her circumstances."

Arthur did not respond to this, but let the words run through his head as Gaia and Tristan left the tent. He finally seemed to come to a conclusion and left the tent. All that remained was Gawain and Titania, the latter of who finally moved to Lancelot's cot and gently moved the curls from his face. He was so peaceful in his sleep.

"I wonder what thoughts are playing in his mind," she said.

"Oh, those thoughts are not suited for your innocent eyes," Gawain chuckled. He moved around to the opposite side of the cot and watched the sleeping knight for a moment. "I apologize for my harshness," he said after a moment. Titania only laughed lightly.

"It was motivation, Sir Gawain," she replied, "and well deserved on my part. I can only apologize for the example of foolishness I've portrayed since I first laid eyes on him. But he does something to me. I cannot explain it. I've never felt it before. I don't know what to do." She looked up to Gawain with pleading eyes.

"I cannot tell you," Gawain answered softly.

"I know," said she as she looked back down to Lancelot. He stirred slightly under her hand as she still fingered his chocolate curls.

"I'll leave you," Gawain said finally, noting that the young woman seemed to be handling things much better before bowing his head slightly and retiring from the tent.

Time seemed to freeze for Titania as she sat with Lancelot for the next quarter of an hour. So many thoughts played in her head. Thoughts of Lancelot and his charms, thoughts of her undying love for Aeron, and then back to the thoughts of the strange unknown feeling Lancelot gave her whenever he looked at her. It was a difficult time, but as she sifted through her reveries, she began to see things much more clearly. And by the time Lancelot finally awoke, a quarter of an hour later, she felt completely prepared and had made her decisions.

Lancelot opened his eyes slowly and stared at Titania for a long moment before he realized where he was and the sharp pain in his right arm truly awakened him.

"What the _hell_-" he began, but Titania cut across him.

"Aeron attacked you," She said quickly. When Lancelot made an immediate attempt to rise, she laid a hand on his chest and forced him back down, keeping eye contact with the obstinate knight. He could tell from her expression that she had something to say, so he acquiesced.

"Say what's on your mind and let me kill him," he growled.

"Lancelot," she smiled at his fervor, but had a faraway look in her eyes, "I cannot continue to entertain the affections of both you and he. I was a fool to act the way I have been from the beginning and I can only apologize to both of you for that. But first I must ask you to forgive Aeron for what he has done. It was by my fool's way that you are in this bed at all."

"Well, I can think of a few ways to forgive you," he smirked wickedly and Titania blushed crimson.

"I am serious, Lancelot," she sighed. "No one else is to blame but myself. Unfortunately, recent events have done well to cast into the light the rashness of my people." She quickly informed him of the traitorous plan Merlin had conceived, using Guinevere as his pawn. This was followed by a good deal of profanities from Lancelot, of course, who had expected something amiss with her from the moment he saw her.

"You are leading up to something, Lady," he acknowledged from the look on her face. "Tell me." He reached across with his left hand and took hers, kissing her dainty fingers softly.

She swallowed hard and prepared herself to announce the decision she believe was right in her heart.

* * *

Arthur walked pointedly through the camp, which was now finally relieved of the silence. He had just given the order for the caravan to prepare their leave of these grounds; that they would return to Marius' modest estate and prepare for battle with the remaining Saxons from there. But now he walked through the camp in search of Guinevere, and it did not take long to find her.

She was stroking the neck of one of the horses and her eyes were red with tears. She looked sickly and unhappy, but Arthur was not easy to show pity.

"I want you to tell me the entire occurrence," he said sternly, his eyes showing little emotion. "My heart has been disillusioned before, Lady. I do not wish to continue this lifestyle. Tell me Merlin's exact plan for me, your part in it, and lastly how you truly feel about me."

"I do not know if I may answer the last of your questions," came a cold and raspy voice behind him, "but I may answer your former two." Arthur turned to see Merlin standing a distance away, leaning somberly on his staff. No one else in the camp seemed to have noticed and Arthur did not doubt that the magician had some sort of spell on the scene.

Arthur placed one hand on the hilt of his sword and shot a look to Guinevere. To his surprise the young girl did not run to her father, but stayed by his side.

"Arthur Castus," Merlin spoke, "do well this day to hear my words. Even I cannot foresee the effects of a power greater than my own. It is my only intention to see that you rule my land."

"You do not wish me to rule under my own mind, Wizard," Arthur spat in reply. "Your only intention is to rule your land through the able and respected. Do not mistake me for a fool. I know a great deal more than you assume."

"Arthur," Merlin persisted, "you would not have ruled this land without my interference. Someday I will be gone from this world, from the land I and my kind have protected with our lives. It is my only wish to give to this land a king who could do well to bring such greatness to the hills. Such peace to the battlefields."

"Your people have given me no reason to trust them over the years," Arthur said.

"It is Rome that we fight," said Merlin, "not Arthur."

"Arthur," Guinevere finally spoke from beside him and he looked down at her uncertainly, "it is Rome's hold on Britain that we have fought against, not you and your men. You were sent from Rome to attend to us, and for that we fought your people."

"You killed many of my men," Arthur interrupted.

"But they were not men of Arthur's," Merlin said. "They were men of Rome. Men who only wished us dead. The animal that is hunted does well to defend itself against the hunter, or it is his death upon him."

"Your service to Rome will be complete," Guinevere added softly, her hand finding its way to his; "and you will finally be only Arthur Castus. No longer Arthur, the Roman commander against Britain."

"We have no quarrel with you, Arthur Castus," Merlin sighed, "it is with your Rome and what they stand for. But when you are free of your binds, what will you do? Will you leave this land you've known for so many years? Or will you see to its fate and follow your destiny?"

Arthur was silent for a long moment, his mind a blur. He did not want to deny that he loved the land he had lived for all these years, but he did not doubt that Merlin was planning some sort of downfall to Rome. He also was beginning to feel a forgiveness for Guinevere in the way that she looked at him and the sense of faithfulness she seemed to exude on this occasion. Though his guard never went down and he constantly wondered whether it was another trick.

"I will stand by your decision, Arthur," Guinevere whispered softly. "I love you." And Arthur suddenly knew in his heart that she meant it.

* * *

_**A/N:** Hmm, do I see repetition here? Yes I meant to have this Lancelot/Titania/Aeron love triangle mirror the one of my original story. But I think I've got you all a bit more stumped this time, no? Can she resist Lancelot's charms? And will Arthur take control of his destiny, as Merlin implores? Don't worry, too, Lance isn't all keen with Aeron yet. I thought he rational enough to control his temper. At least for now. Hope you liked!_


	26. Chapter 26

_**A/N: **another update! Well, my dear friend PantherS wanted some more Tristan/Gaia. You're going to get it, my friend. Quite a bit. This seemed like a long chapter when I wrote it. Enjoy!_

* * *

Tristan smirked as he watched Gaia pace in front of him. He sat with his back to a tree where he had been repairing a broken bowstring, but presently he stopped to watch his love as she wrung her hands fretfully and he could not resist feeling the wonderful passion sweep through him that only she brought out.

His eyes traveled down her finger, taking in the sight of her in Bors' oversized tunic and her own thin trousers. She could feel his gaze on her, and turned raised eyebrows down on her knight, wordlessly. His smile faded when he noticed the dark circles under her eyes and the grief-stricken emotions that played across her face. She turned her back to him and continued pacing for an eternity. He hated to see her in this condition. Heaving a sigh, he rose from where he sat and walked up behind her silently, slowly enveloping her in his arms.

She leaned back into his embrace without a word and raised a hand to his cheek as they both stood, looking over the camp. He could feel the tension relax in her as he held her, and a small smile came back to his face.

After what seemed a lifetime of simply being together, Gaia turned in his embrace to face him. She smiled a weary smile of thanks to the man she loved and he bent to kiss her sweetly. His kiss turned rough and passionate and when Gaia gasped slightly he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. She felt her knees begin to tremble and quickly made to turn her head from him.

"My God," she whispered with a small laugh when she pulled away from his fervent kiss. "It would appear that you find enjoyment in my fretting." She looked at him mock-quizzically and her eyes widened considerably when his only reply was a very deep growl as he settled in to kiss her again.

His arms tightened around her, drawing her even closer to him. She put her hands on his warm chest in an attempt to push away from the suddenly viciously passionate knight, but he would not hear of it. He only kissed her further and deeper than before.

Gaia was beginning to feel quite unnerved and even a bit frightened of Tristan. He had never been so persistent with her affections, and that he chose this occasion was a curious thing. Her lips managed to escape his for a moment and she whispered for him, pleaded for him to stop. She was tired, so tired, and her mind was clouded with thoughts and fears and countless questions. She could not understand the man whose lips overtook hers once more in an onslaught of sweetness. It was all too much for her.

She tried to plead with him again, but he did not listen. He was too passionate, too fervent, too knowledgeable a lover. She felt herself succumb to the darkness that seemed to be lingering over her and felt breath reach her lungs again as her eyelids fluttered closed and she fainted in his arms.

Tristan looked at the unconscious woman in his arms and smiled a satisfied smile. His breathing was ragged and his chest heaved as he lay her down and covered her in a blanket before sitting back down by the tree and continuing the work on his bowstring, happy to see his lady finally resting, her mind at eyes.

* * *

"Aeron."

Lancelot released her fingers from their shower of kisses as he felt his heartbeat suddenly lunge into a quick pace. She said the name he had not thought he would hear. The very name. It was as if the wind had been knocked out of him for a moment. He was sheerly unprepared for _that_.

"I-I beg your pardon, Lady," he said finally, a smile crossing his face as he refused to believe his ears. Titania was not looking at him, her gaze was set on the grass beneath her feet.

"Do not make this any harder, Lancelot," she said quietly. He let out a sort of laugh and sat up in his bed, starring at her in bewilderment.

"You cannot be serious!"

"Lancelot," she sighed, closing her eyes and shaking her head, but he was beyond words. He was feeling a severe onslaught of emotions too strong for his liking.

"I don't believe you!" his voice rose to a thundering pitch, and Titania's eyes finally came up to meet his. "You are serious? You would chose him over me?"

"I do not chose one or the other, Lancelot," she whispered as she stood, placing her hands on his cheeks. "I am only continuing down the path I have started."

"What about our path?"

The tears were flowing rampantly down her face now and her fingers trembled against his soft flawless skin. His eyes were glazed over, dark and malevolent as he stared into space, imagining what horrific things he would do to Aeron.

"Where does it lead, Lancelot?" she asked him. "It would only cause further fighting between my people and your men. It would prove to be the ruination of everything you've worked for!"

"And let it be!" he yelled in response, leaping from the bed, a rage in his heart. There was a small yelp from Titania as his voice hit an uncharacteristically emotional pitch. "I have worked, Titania; I have fought and not known love. Never known love. And the closest thing I ever felt was taken from me from my very brother!"

"Gaia," Titania nodded through her tears. "But I am not Gaia, Lancelot."

"No," he replied, this time in a whisper as he held her face in his hands, lightly forcing her head up and her eyes to his. "You are more. You are more than anything. Anyone. I still love Gaia, certainly, but I found something more in you. A deeper love, a love far more real. Why can you not see it? I love you." His last words took on such a pleading tone that Titania found new tears arising as he bent down and swept his lips over hers. And in his kiss she found the most passionate plea for requited love to grace her lips. Her head fought hard against the attempts of Lancelot, but her heart began to slowly return the plea as she wrapped her arms around his neck, taking in his scent and everything about him.

* * *

Arthur's head was pounding with thoughts and pains and questions as he stood, Guinevere by his side. The way she had said the three simple words blew him away. He could not look at her and only continued to stare at the blue shape of Merlin before him. He knew she meant it, he knew she loved her, but did that really make right all the wrong things she'd done?

"Arthur," Merlin began, but Arthur, in a trance-like tone, interrupted him.

"I have heard your words, Merlin," he said sternly. "Now you shall hear mine. What fate is in my distance, I do not know. My only concern is my men. They have fought with every ounce of fervor in them while they dreamed of their home. And the only way they will return home is if we deliver this boy to them. One of my men is dying. There is little time. The Saxon drums grow louder every moment."

"I do not make light of such circumstances," answered Merlin.

"Then prey," Arthur continued, "with any slight of concern you may have for my lordship over this land, help me. I know you are not as simple a man as you look. I know you are a magician. Heal my charge, and I will take the path you offer me."

A smile crept over Merlin's face as he said "Yes" and Arthur led him quickly to the tent, his hand in Guinevere's.

* * *

Gaia shook her head slightly as her eyelids fluttered open. She was surprised to find herself laying on the ground beside the large oak tree Tristan had been, and still was, sitting beside. The memories of his kisses flooded back to her and she suddenly gasped.

"Don't tell me," she sighed, and Tristan let out a laugh.

"I've been trying to get you to bed for a long time, Gaia," he replied; "you committed no sins last night. Damn my luck," he added with a wink to the girl and her cheeks grew crimson.

"I am sorry to have disappointed you, Sir Knight," she said sarcastically as she rubbed her eyes.

"Don't be stupid," he replied, "you never disappoint me." She blushed further and deeper at this.

"Why are you so petulant all of a sudden, Tristan?" she asked with raised eyebrows as she rose, draping the blanket over her shoulders. She walked to him and sat beside him where he wrapped an arm around you. "I daresay you're beginning to act like Lancelot."

He smirked as he watched her, his eyes dancing. "Did the rest do you well?"

"I-" she stopped short, her mouth wide open. Then realization hit her and she squealed before slapping him on the arm. "You tricked me!" Her laughter filled the woods like the sweetest of music and he only nodded, satisfied with himself.

"Ack," she sighed as she settled back into his arms. "You ass. It was not my beauty that enticed you, it was my fretting that you thought _irksome!_"

"Your pacing _was_ incessant, my love," he replied as he kissed the top of her head. "I was doing you a favour."

"Ah, and how it was a favour, Sire," answered she indignantly.

"Tell me the rest did you well," he said, a bit sternly. "You'll be thanking me, I assure you."

"Perhaps," replied she with a smile, "but do me the courtesy of one further favour, please: refrain from any more favours like that one!"

* * *

_**A/N: **Alrighty, who needs a fan now? Haha. Kidding. I was reveling in the beauty of Tristan and Gaia's love and just set it to words. I thought it rather classic of Tristan to make his lady faint in order for her to finally rest her mind. Gotta love that scout. It seemed a very Rhett Butler-ish thing to do, no? Heh. Anyway, the other events were rather quick. I bet I caught you off guard with Titania's decision, though, eh? But has she finally made it? Will she listen to her head, or her heart? And Arthur, risking his future for Galahad. How King-like of him. More will be coming and soon, I promise!_


	27. Chapter 27

_**A/N: **Thank you, everybody, for your kind words once again. I love you all are so detailed - I love reading what you have to say!And I'm glad you're all enjoying the way this story is going. I have so much fun writing it, I don't want to finish! I want to keep going forever :P Anyway, enjoy the next chapter!_

* * *

Arthur felt his heartbeat quicken upon receiving Merlin's word to do his best to heal the wounded Galahad. Despite the uncertain feelings he had to the strange wizard from the woods, Arthur found that he had complete confidence in the elder man's abilities.

His palms began to sweat as he rushed to the tent and through open the curtain enclosing it. He was confused to see Guinevere's cheeks suddenly flush bright crimson and soon answered his own question upon looking into the tent and seeing Titania wrapped unceremoniously in Lancelot's arms as they kissed passionately.

Arthur felt his own color rise as he awkwardly cleared his throat, making his presence known. Titania immediately withdrew herself from the young knight's kiss and gaped openly at the scene her own father had just been party to. She stuttered for words several times as her mind began functioning again and all reality came crashing deathly back to her person. She looked from Arthur to Guinevere, both who were avoiding her gaze, and then to her father, who was taking no notice of his innocent daughter and only moving hastily towards the bedded Galahad.

Finally Titania turned back to Lancelot and blushed deeply upon seeing his tunic unbuttoned about halfway down, his chisled chest quite visible. The knight ran a hand through his savagely curly hair and sighed, unceremoniously plopping onto a cot. He too was clearly embarrassed at the sudden viewing party they had received, but more so by the intense moment he had just shared with the beautiful Woad. The thoughts seemed to come back to him quickly, as well; realization of her having said Aeron's name. His eyes darted to her immediately when these thoughts penetrated his brain.

The tears were in her eyes, making them sparkle like nothing else, as she shook her head. "No," was all she whispered in a gasp as she turned and ran out of the tent, avoiding the glances from both Arthur and Guinevere as she did so.

* * *

Tristan and Gaia walked arm-in-arm through the camp. Tristan had finally conceded that they should go in search of Arthur, as the Saxon drums were echoing in the distance. If they were going to leave for Marius' battlements, they had best go about doing so, and now.

"Where the bloody hell has he gotten off to?" Gaia mused, her eyes flashing. Tristan inwardly cringed at the girl's lack of respect for their commander. He had been trained for fifteen years to obey ever small order, to respect Arthur's position, and in knowing the man he had taught himself to respect Arthur's very being. He would never question him. Not like Gaia did.

"We should split up," he replied as his eyes took in the mass of Roman, peasant, Woad and Sarmatian. The instant reply to this comment was Gaia's arm gripping tighter around his own as her eyes left the grounds to stare bewildered at him.

"Do you not hear the drums?" she asked incredulously.

"I do," he replied knowingly. His tone did well to convince Gaia not to question him further, but being as stubborn a woman as she was, she would not let up so easily. She opened her mouth to rebut, but someone caught her eye and she immediately caught focus of Lancelot, staggering towards them from the direction of Galahad's tent. She nodded in the direction and Tristan followed her gaze, raising his eyebrows at the young knight.

Gaia withdrew herself from Tristan and walked cautiously towards the Lancelot who seemed to be muttering something to himself. When he looked up at her she gasped in surprise to see his eyes wet with tears, bloodshot and maleveolent.

"Lancelot," she gaped as she took his hands, catching his eye and silently questioning him.

"She picked him," he whispered in a hysterical voice. "Gaia, how could I have been so blind? How could I have thought that after you-"

Hestopped himselfwhen he noticed Tristan appear from behind Gaia, a look of warning on his face. But Lancelot did not care, he had decided.

"I was a fool to think you could have loved me from the beginning," he said in a harsh tone to Gaia, "and even more a fool to look for a hope in the eyes of your sister. What witches you women are to cast such a spell on me."

"Lancelot, this is not you," Gaia persisted, gaping at the knight. He was positively a mess.

"Or perhaps this is the real me."

Gaia did not take the time to consider his words. "Listen to me," she said as she took his face in her hands, causing him to look down from his height and into her own face. "I do not pretend to be learned in anything. But I am learned in faith. I am learned in hope. And I am learned in the truth our hearts dare to tell us. This is not the end of your love, Lancelot. She was simply not your match."

"But she was, Gaia!" He yelled as his old fire seemed to come back to him. He pulled away from her and turned his back on her as he unsheathed a small knife from a scabbard on his leg. Her eyes widened at this action and she immediately turned frightened eyes on Tristan who, as always, she could not read.

"If it had not been for Arthur, walking blatantly into-"

"-Arthur is in the tent?"

"- Aeron has trifled with me, tread on this thin ice for too long," he spat as he turned back to her, his eyes deathly violent once more, though completely sane. "You cannot expect me to sit by whilst he tramples on me so."

"You would," she persisted, "if you cared for Titania's heart."

"Ah," Lancelot's wry smile crept back onto his solid face, his eyebrows raising. "But her heart is no longer, nor was it ever, my responsibility. On the occasion that a hope glimmered when I dared to think I should court her, yes, then it was my responsibility to see to her well being. But now." He knew she would not understand, Gaia never did. But he was tired of Aeron and had been tampered with enough.

He sidestepped Gaia, but Tristan moved in, fixing Lancelot with a penetrating glare. Lancelot responded to this threat by playfully flipping the dagger in his hand and staring from it to the menacing scout. Tristan stared flatly at Lancelot, contemplating if the knight would actually fight him and therefore contemplating if he should slap him then and there, but remembered Gaia standing just beside him and nodded acquiescently and stepped aside.

"A shame I wasn't around when Aeron fired that shot," he musedto Gaia as theybegan walking towards the tent. "I would have helped him out."

* * *

Titania felt numb as she headed towards the innermost part of the camp. She knew that was where he would be. And she wasted no time in finding him sitting silently beside the fire, sharpening his dagger as he listened with a small smile to the young Lucan who was animatedly telling the story of the serfs' fight, one more time. Dagonet, Bors and Gawain were watching the young boy as well, their eyes dancing at the energy he exuded.

Titania managed to catch Gawain's eye and nodded to him. He gave her a knowing look, a comforting nod, and a warm smile. Titania returned each before moving towards Aeron and silently sitting beside him. He did not look away from Lucan, but he did notice her sit beside him.

"We've been here before," she mused with a smile. At her positive sound, her turned to look at her, eyebrows raised. He had expected a lecture about how his irrationality had used him to the fullest point, and how he needed to control his temper, but her eyes were lucid and she made no sign of anger. He tilted his head slightly and smiled a disbelieving smile.

"My love, I would do well to think one of two things: you are either baiting me with your flattery only to consume me as an irrational bastard, or Bors has given you a touch of his drink." She shook her head quickly at both answers.

"A huge weight has been lifted," she said seriously. "I will no longer be tampered with by Lancelot and his many charms."

"And how did you go about sorting out that little problem?"

Titania's eyes fixed solidly on Aeron at this moment, and the light seemed to leave her. "I told him that you have my heart." She noticed the look on his face and blushed deeply.

"What makes you think I would accept it after your attraction to another man?"

She scoffed at this. "For one thing," she said stiffly, "you cannot deem it my 'attraction' when the entire situation was purely the result of Lancelot's insatiable lust. And secondly, I told you that you _have_ my heart, and you can neither accept or deny it, my love. It is yours whether you want it or not."

Aeron smirked slightly, took her hand and kissed it gently. "I would want it. Though you'll forgive me if I do not immediately dismiss they possibility of your elation by influence of drink."

* * *

_**A/N: **And there you have it. Aeron and Titania, finally. But will there be any Aeron left when Lance is through with him? Heh. We'll see :P A shimmer of hope for Galahad, as well. Ah, I love that little knight. Though don't think he's out of the much yet. Til the next update! Thanks for reading, as always._


	28. Chapter 28

_**A/N: **Thank you all so much for the reviews (and kudoz, janell, for making me giggle incessantly. lol) Anyway, an update! I hope you all won't be too dissapointed with it. This chapter moves like lightening, I think. Hopefully not too hasty. I shall let you all be the judge ;)_

* * *

Lancelot wanted to scream as he watched Aeron kiss Titania's hand. The two exchanged a conversation he could not hear, but both faces were lucid and happy and it broke his heart. He wanted nothing more than to chuck his dagger right into Aeron's heart. And he planned on doing so, but at that moment Titania's face caught his eye. He looked at her, really looked at her, and saw the elation that was so clearly exuding from her. Her eyes were dancing and sparkling and she seemed to have not a worry or care in the world, despite the far off drums of the Saxon army, echoing faintly in the distance. He had never seen her so truly happy. He had only seen such happiness on one woman's face before and it was that of his youngest sister, Elaine. He remembered well the day, when both were very young, that he had given her a wildflower he had picked just outside their house. She claimed she had never seen anything as beautiful as the wilting flower and she would keep it til the end of her days.

This angelic innocence was replaying on Titania's face like a dream and Lancelot was finally beginning to wake up to the reality of it. Images of her porcelain face soaked with tears came tearing back to him. These were the faces of pain that he himself had brought upon her. And he knew then that he would only cause these emotions to reappear in her heart if he did any of the rash things he so wanted to.

Aggravated, he threw his knife down hard where it embedded itself deep into the earth, letting out a small roar of frustration. It was then that he noticed someone standing beside him and turned to see Guinevere, a look of knowing upon her face. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"Can you die of heartbreak?" he asked bitterly as he turned back to look at Titania, his heart wanting nothing more than for her and he to be the only beings left in the world.

Guinevere stood in silence, her eyes rimmed with tears for the unfortunate knight. There was a long and deep silence between the two before she finally spoke.

"The bitterness of loss is life's greatest abomination," said she, and her voice caught slightly as she saw the completely broken look in his eyes. She felt the deepest pain and uselessness. There was nothing to be done for him, and she knew this, but the desire to help him filled her heart. She let these feelings live inside her and forced herself to refrain from meddling in the affairs of others.

"I was sent to tell you," she said softly, feeling she must deliver the message Arthur had given her, "that you and the men are to make ready Senator Marius and his people. You leave at sunrise."

"And when will we know when that is?" Lancelot asked, looking up and seeing naught but trees covering the blue of the sky. Guinevere smirked.

"We will tell you."

"And what of Galahad?"

She sighed. "There is little to be done for him at present, my father says. He must be brought to Marius' fortress. He will be safest there."

"Your father cannot save him?" Lancelot was disbelieving.

"Not now. There is little time," she said.

He looked at her for a long moment. "Is he going to die?"

Guinevere shivered. "There is always hope. Though it be thin as ice, it is always there."

Lancelot nodded solemnly, and then realized something. "You said 'you leave'. Are you not coming?"

Guinevere sighed deeply. She had hoped he would not notice that part of her words. "The Woads will retire to the west, yes, but not to the citadel. We shall fight from inside the woods. This is _our_ territory. I have decided, my place is beside Arthur, but I dare not fight on grounds so abnormal to me..." Her words failed her as she watched the pain in Lancelot's eyes increase tenfold. He turned back to look at Titania. She looked completely at peace. He sighed as he felt something he had never before: the bitter sting of tears.

* * *

The wagons were loaded and the horses were saddles, all in silence as the knights finally began to realize their impending doom. Perhaps it was the depression of the dreary rain, but there seemed to be no chance of survival in their eyes, even after they had already killed nearly half of the army. 

Still, with leaden hearts they began to ride west, back in the direction from which they had come, the steady drums of the Saxons following them like a swarm of bees on a summer afternoon. With every beat, the hope of each man was pounded further into the darkness of depression and by the time they finally reached the cold stone fortress, their moods could not have been worse.

Galahad was immediately taken to Marius' bedchamber where he would be most comfortable. The young knight had awoken from his unconsciousness, but could barely speak a word in his state.

Presently, Gaia stood beside Tristan and the others in the large and empty room while Arthur placed Galahad gingerly on the bed. He kissed the young knight's forehead in the way that noblemen and leaders do to one they may never see again. Tristan could feel Gaia tense beside him at this motion. She had never enjoyed the knights' dark negativity, though he had told her on numerous occasions that she had not been through the fifteen years of death that they had. There was no room for regret in their lives.

"Rest well," Arthur whispered to Galahad as the curly-haired knight closed his eyes once more, drifting again to sleep. The Roman then turned back to his knights and fixed them with a steady look of fellowship.

"The Saxon bastards are nearly here," Bors said in a soft, low voice.

"Then let us meet them," Dagonet chimed in steadily. "Let us wash the German filth away from this land."

There were small nods and halfhearted acknowledgments to this as the knights left the room solemnly, making their way to the front gates of the small fortress.

Arthur looked up to the battlements and smiled a small smile. Every man of the village, every serf and squire was perched with a bow and a defiant look in his eyes. Though every Roman soldier had been killed, there were enough men remaining to line the entire front gate.

"Tristan, Gaia and Bors," Arthur instructed, "fire from the battlements until they are closer upon us. When half the army has reached the clearing after the woods, we ride out. The other half will be dealt with by the Woads." Both men and the Briton nodded and retreated to the battlements. "Men," he added to the others, "to your horses and be ready."

* * *

_**A/N: **Le gasp! Lance didn't bit the shizola out of Aeron! Eh, Aeron's too nice a guy. I did my best to incorporate the emotion I thought Lance was feeling into the beginning of this chapter. Sorry this was a bit short, methinks. More coming soon, I promise!  
_


	29. Chapter 29

_**A/N: **Well, thank you all for your kind words (and janell, again, for the chuckle). I think this chapter is a good deal longer. Hopefully. It seemed like it was, but maybe I was typing slow. Anyway, enjoy!_

* * *

Gaia stared at the mass of Saxon men, spilling slowly out of the forest. There was nothing short of a thousand well-armed men in lines ranking back deep into the trees. She held her breathe as she saw the leader at the head of the group.

Cerdic was a beast of a man with a swagger that did well to remove any scent of contestation from the air. A coat of thick fur was draped around him and over that was his own blonde hair, longer than any other man's that Gaia had ever seen. A large beard and mustache covered most of his face, all but his eyes which seemed to be the worst part of him. His eyes were blinding and malevolent, everything about them representing death in its complete form. She sighed and shook her head from the top of the battlements, turning to meet Tristan's confident gaze beside her. He motioned to her other side with a knowing look. She turned to see a young blonde boy holding an arrow and bow. He could not be older than seven and was shaking life a leaf.

"What's your name, boy?" she asked him quietly and he turned eyes of the brightest blue up at her.

"Elijah, Lady," he replied in a quivering voice, bowing his head slightly to her.

"Elijah," she smiled. "Where is your father?"

"He was killed in the battle in the woods," the boy replied sadly. "So was my brother Jon."

Gaia felt her stomach tighten. "And how old was your brother?"

"Nine."

Her hands began to tremble and she turned horrified eyes hastily back to Tristan. His face had a look of bitterness as he shook his head sadly at both boys' unfortunate circumstances. He watched as tears began to rim Gaia's eyes and could not help but inwardly scoff at how much of a _woman_ she could be at times. Though he did too feel sorry for the young boy who stood, attempting bravery, on the battlements.

"That's the man that did it, too." Gaia swept around to the boy and followed his small finger as it pointed directly to Cerdic. She took a deep quivering breath.

"Well, that man will not see the next dawn then, will he?" the young boy smiled up at her and shook his head, anxious to see vengeance done on the evil man.

Tristan grunted a small chuckle as he removed an arrow from his quiver and flexed the bowstring. He aimed it steadily at a large barrel of a man on the left flank of the army. His eyes swept to his left where Arthur was standing on the battlements, watching the approaching Saxons carefully.

After a time, Arthur turned quickly and nodded to Tristan. The scout released his arrow, knocking the large man on the left flank to the ground. The entire left flank stopped uncertainly, but the rest continued. Tristan fired another arrow, this time to an officer who marched beside Cerdic, knocking him down within seconds. This caught Cerdic's attention and he halted his men.

They had only paused for half a moment before there was a deafening series of screams from deep within the woods and the Woads moved on their prey.

The men in the back of the ranks of Cerdic's army were completely unsuspecting of any form of attack. But when Aeron saw Tristan's second arrow come and the entire army halt, he goaded his men with a piercing scream of war and showed no mercy on the men below. The best scouts were perched the highest in the trees, knocking dead one Saxon with every arrow while the best wielders threw themselves without a thought into the mass of armed Saxon bears.

Cerdic was disconcerted. He heard the agonizing shrieks of his dying men even from the frontmost rank. The soldiers he did not fret over. He was losing his odds, and that was the most important thing. Lives were meant to be ended in his eyes, even those of his men, but with every soldier he lost, he lost a better chance of retrieving the real Alecto.

After a moment of uncertainty, he ordered his second-in-command, newly appointed after the unfortunate loss of his son Cynric, to lead the left flank on towards the fortress.

* * *

On the battlements of Marius' modest estate, Tristan watched the happenings with keen eyes. Presently, Gaia was watching Tristan. The two shots he had fired were unnatural, even by his standards. The army would have been considered far too far out of range for even the century's best archer. She was not the only one gaping. An older man who stood beside Elijah was wide-eyed and shook his head in amazement.

"No man could fire shots from this fortress to the wood and hit his mark," he mused in awe. Gaia noticed Tristan's eye twitch and saw the slightest of satisfied smiles on his face. He turned his eyes, without moving his head, and stole a look at her exasperated expression and his smile increased.

"Well," Gaia replied, not removing her eyes from Tristan, "he is not a man. He's a Sarmatian."

Tristan was not one to laugh or show any sort of emotion, but at this comment he could not contain the small chuckle that arose as he tied his bow to the quiver on his back and stood, Bors following suit. He bent down and kissed Gaia softly. She knew what was amiss, and she swore she would not contradict him. She knew he would ride out with Arthur and the knights, and she knew he would not, under any circumstances, have her outside the protective walls of the fortress.

He rested his forehead on hers and they stared knowingly into each other's eyes. He did not want to leave her. Never had the uncertainty of death cause him to fret. But now that he had _her_, he had something worth living for. It was a new feeling, the feeling of needing someone, and one that he had not yet grown accustomed to, but he was overly fond of it just the same.

He sighed, taking in her scent, her vision, everything about her. He wanted to say something. But words seemed minuscule. And the moment they shared spoke louder than any poetic drabble in this world ever could. He knew this, she knew this, and there was nothing left for him to do but turn his back on the woman he loved and ride to what could possibly be his death. For the first time in his life, a shiver of anticipation swept down his spine.

* * *

Lancelot shifted atop his stallion as the large, elegant animal snorting ominously. It was the waiting that irked him so. Give him the battlefield and his broadsword to wield, but the anticipatory emotions were far too much for him to handle. He glanced impatiently to where Arthur mounted his horse, Tristan and Bors joining them.

The gates creaked every so slowly and the screams and war calls from the Saxons and Woads seemed to grow even louder as the seven horses pounded the turf outside the doors, finally relishing in the epic moments of battle.

The Woad archers were succeeding. The vine-trailing arrows they shot at the outer trees formed a sort of wall of thickets, trapping the rearmost half of the Saxons unexpectedly. Because of this, and because of the fact that their leader Cerdic was on the opposite side of the barrier, the Saxon foot soldiers began to panic. They thought of the Woad men as devils painted in blue, skilled in witchcraft of the darkest sort. They had composed such falsehoods over the countless years they had been enemies with the woodmen, and now it seemed as if every one of them was coming to a sharp reality.

Presently, the Saxons on the outside of the vine barrier were compelled by sheer obliviousness and common-sense to turn and see the happenings of the Woads. Cerdic, however, had his mind on his prize. Alecto and, most importantly, Arthur. Only half the left flank had made it past the Woad barrier, but on he sent them, about two hundred men.

The knights did not ride far before they coincided with the Saxons. Lancelot dropped his reins, applying pressure with his calves to assist in steering his destrier, and unsheathed his twin blades from the scabbards on his back. He took a deep, satisfying breath as he swung the blades by his side and then plunged into the mass of foot soldiers below him.

The noise of battle erupted, not only by the screams of Bors and Gawain who tended to be the loudest of the knights, but by the whooshing of arrows as the flew steadily, fired from the villagers and Gaia atop the battlements. The drums were well deceased as the shock of their trap set in, and now it was replaced with the bone-twinging shriek ofmetal upon metal, echoing in the deep, dank air as weaponry and war overtook the cold and lonely island.

* * *

_**A/N:** And zere...you go. lol. I originally planned on ending this chapter when Tristan leaves the battlements, but I thought it could stand a bit more length. SoI continued on. Thanks again for the inspiring reviews, you all rock. Til the next update!_


	30. Chapter 30

_**A/N: **Ah! I'm so sorry for keeping you all waiting! I've been meaning to finish this story up much faster than this. Apologies. This chapter is very short, I didn't realize it. But I'll have another coming soon, I promise._

_I have to add something. Has anyone heard the King Arthur soundtrack? I just discovered it about a month ago. It's amazing! The song sung by Moya Brennan is just beautiful, and so tragic. So a shameless plug to it. If you don't have, go get it!_

_Now on with the chapter._

* * *

Atop the fortress walls, Gaia aimed her arrow with shaking fingers, but her shot was rather steady and hit it's target directly, killing a man instantaneously and knocking a pang of guilt to her heart. Her eyes scanned the battle below her as she searched for her knights in the mass. She smiled when she saw Jols atop a stable horse. He looked as much a knight as any of the Sarmatians, mainly by the fervor found in beholding him. His blade came down upon a Saxon before he moved to another as fast as lightening.

"You are Lady Gaia." Gaia turned her eyes away from the battle to see Elijah staring up at her with a small smile. He was not asking her, but stating her name as if she were famous. "And that was Sir Tristan."

"Well, yes," Gaia gaped at the young boy, words lost from her.

"Papa told us stories about you, from the Wall. He visited last fall and told us of every knight. My brother and I would joust on our ponies and pretend to be knights." He blushed slightly when he said, "I was always Tristan."

Gaia smiled as she felt tears sting her eyes, but bit her lip and forced them back. She loaded another arrow into her bow and shot it, aiming mindlessly and turning her eyes away as the tip collided with a giant of a man who was fighting Gawain. He turned and bowed dramatically to the fortress, knowing she was the only one with a keen enough shot left standing on the battlements.

* * *

Titania was silent as she stood beside Merlin and his officers. They were a distance away, watching the occurrences from atop a hill just outside the woods. Her heart burned for Aeron, but also for Lancelot. She did not want their recent meeting to be their final. She had more to tell him. She only prayed she would get the chance.

A new thought entered her head and she turned to Merlin. "Father, how do you think Galahad will fare? Will he survive?"

Merlin did not look away from the battle. "If time would make haste," he replied, "there is still a hope."

"How much hope?" she persisted.

He sighed slightly as he whispered, "Very little."

Titania blinked and remained silent as her father began talking quickly with his men in his tongue. She was undecided, but finally discovered a daring resolve and slipped away from the group of men, making quickly to the east gates of Marius' fortress, hoping against hope that the villagers would not shoot.

* * *

"Gaia!" The woman in question jumped and turned at the urgency of a man's voice, her eyes like rapid fire, finding him instantly. The older man, greying hair but blazing blue eyes, looked from her to the ground to the east.

"Someone approaches! A woman. In the clothing of the woods," he hollered to her, and Gaia immediately yelled to him to hold fire as she left her position at the parapets and made her way, following him towards the eastern wall.

She gazed over the battlements and nodded to him. "She is my sister. Do not fire." With that, she descended the cold stone steps, momentarily allowing the battle to slip towards the back of her mind, her heartbeat quickening as she wondered why on earth her sister would leave the shelter of the woods.

Titania was breathless as she entered the citadel, immediately taking Gaia's hands as she gasped for breath. The latter's eyes swept over the younger woman in uncertainty, fearfulness.

"Let me see Galahad," she said finally, catching her breath and meeting Gaia's gaze. "Please, Gaia," she persisted. "If someone does not submit to him, he may not survive. There will be no hope!"

Gaia nodded instantly and led Titania to the tower where the youngest night was still in his unconscious state. Opening the door, Gaia felt her heart breaking as she saw him once again, his eyes closed in dreamless slept, peacefully silent oblivion.

Titania ran to his bedside and felt his forehead. She closed her eyes for a moment before turning to Gaia. "I'll do what I am able. I must contribute something."

Gaia nodded in silence and closed the door once more, ignoring the fears the tugged at her heart: that Galahad may never wake from that dreamless sleep.

* * *

The Woads were large in numbers and skilled in killing, and it did not take long for the half of Cerdic's German army to be diminished. Aeron called his men to him, and ordered them over their own barriers to the Sarmatians' fight. He knew those men were few and each was of great importance to the survival of Briton, however much he disliked a certain curly-haired member of their entourage.

Once over the barrier, time did not stop for a moment for Aeron as he instantaneously hurled himself over and onto the unsuspecting Saxons. As weapons of various lethality flashed around him, his life did not flash in his mind, but rather the face of Titania smiling brightly, the sun's luminous halo enveloping her. He found a new strive of passion and took down several men with one blow, blinded to all around him and only fighting for the chance to see her again.

* * *

_**A/N: **Dare I be so evil as to kill off such a wonderful knight? You'll have to wait and see. By the way, I made a little something one night while entertaining my love for computer graphic design, and I think Lancelot fans will quite enjoy it. Possibly. Til the next update!_


	31. Chapter 31

_**A/N: **I'm alive! I am so sorry to all of you for this horrible wait. And with Galahad lingering between life and death, no less! For shame! And I am equally sorry for not finishing my thought in the previous Author's Note. I created a simple art piece on my computer for fans of Lancelot, and you can see that in my profile now. Sorry about that. There's only a few chapters left of this story. About time, I know, and I'll be dishing them out as soon as I can! Promise!_

* * *

As the rush of screams could be heard, mixed screams of both the dying Saxon and the intruding Woads, Cerdic closed his eyes for a fraction of a second in disgust. This was not going as he had foreseen. Death was creeping upon every armor-clad Saxon left standing on the ground of Britain. No, this was not as he had planned at all. He licked his lips as his eyes worked madly to take in the surrounding hysteria.

He knew it would not last; his line had ended with the death of his son, and the only thing left was the battle around him - this land. If he lost this island, he would truly have nothing left. All his work, his loss, would have been for nothing. He would have naught to show for it.

This thought did not hold well with him, and he immediately felt a new anger rush through his German blood, a cynical hatred. He saw Arthur just off, fighting one of Cerdic's lieutenants with every ounce of fervor, and his spirits lifted.

"Cut the head of the snake, the body dies." he muttered with a smirk as he found his crazed warmongering once again and played on it. He unsheathed his broadsword and lunged forward, but he was not aiming for Arthur.

His blade slid through the body of his Saxon lieutenant; the man's scream did not have time to pierce the air before his lifeless form fell to the ground. Cerdic's long blond hair whirled as he twisted his neck and stretched his arms, his predatory eyes fixing on Arthur as he prepared for combat.

Arthur only gaped at the mountainous man and the scene he had just witnessed. Could there be evil enough in one being to destroy a man in his own charge simply because he was in the way? An unmeasurable disgust flooded through him and he did not think twice before releasing a cry and lunging at the heartless man before him.

The two mens' swords clashed and for a moment they only stood, eyes fixed upon eyes, each offering an immeasurable death threat to the other. Then, like caged animals finally being released, their swords broke apart and they attacked.

Arthur skillfully blocked every blow, taking in the urgency that seemed to surround Cerdic and using it to his advantage. However, as quick and without thought as Cerdic's moves seemed to be, the large Saxon still remained completely in control and Arthur found that with every blow the mad man was more difficult to fight.

The weight of the armor weighed Arthur down, slowing his movements while Cerdic was clad in loose-fitting threads that allowed the best of his ability. Arthur grew slowly tired by the countless lunges Cerdic had made at him and the Saxon seemed not to tire at all.

After eons of what seemed to be just these two men and one luminous island, Cerdic surprised Arthur with a blow to the waist, slicing deeply between the sheets of armor and into Arthur's abdomen. His cries rang out in the smudgy British air as he fell to his knees, his sword subconsciously dropping from his hand, his head hung low.

Suddenly the stench of blood fusing with the sweat of the hundreds of surrounded soldiers deep in the heat of battle took over Arthur's senses. His life flashed before him, images of his mother from his childhood, his father clad in Roman armor much like he now was, images of Lancelot and the knights when they had first come to his charge. Guinevere. Gaia. Both women's faces seemed blurred together in the depiction of his deepest love. He saw Britain and Rome and Pelagius, everything he had fought for since the very beginning. He saw men dying and soldiers reuniting with their families. He saw everything he had ever seen before on this tragic earth.

It all faded at the sound of Cerdic's voice and slowly the cold, grey eyes of the Saxon commander came swimming into view.

"You disappoint me, Arthur," Cerdic muttered as he pushed back Arthur's helmet, grabbing a handful of the curly black hair beneath it. "Your name is barely whispered through these lands. What do they see in you?"

"My death would not hinder your soon-coming defeat, Saxon," Arthur managed to reply in a gasp. He saw Cerdic's eyes flash and closed his own eyes, summoning every ounce of defiance to him.

* * *

Titania sighed and ran a weary palm over her sweating brow. The heat of the outside battle seemed to ironically penetrate to this musky room where she currently resided, an unconscious Galahad in the baroque bed of Marius Honorius. She shook her head absent-mindedly as she took in the lavish and ornate objects that floated everywhere in this bedchamber. He was certainly very much a materialistic man for a Senator, she thought.

Bringing her mind back to the young man to whom she had taken charge of, she glanced to Galahad. Having already re-washed and dressed his wounds, she ran a simple prayer through her mind. One that held so many subjects.

Aeron, Lancelot; Arthur and is other men. Gaia and Guinevere, her father. Galahad. Herself.

As she sat in deep reverie, her eyes fixed on the unflinching Galahad, an idea sparked. She thought it a silly Woad trick, but was willing to do everything in her power to retrieve the young knight from his grievous fate. She walked to a small satchel she had brought with her and pulled out a vial of Merlin's "blessed herbs". _Smelling salts, nothing more,_ she thought. _But I'll do what I can, Sir Knight_.

She popped open the lid to the tiny bottle and was shocked by the instant flood of calm that issued with the smell of rosemary and thyme. She took a deep breath, one finally prayer, before tentatively passing the bottle under Galahad's nose.

No reaction.

_Please work. Please, please work._ She shook her head, refused to allow a negative thought to enter her mind as she attempted again. This time, with one trembling hand, she softly lifted his eyelid.

She felt the strain against her fingers as Galahad attempted to open his eyes, a deep breath coming in a large gasp. Titania laughed aloud as she drew back the herbs and made the sign of the cross over her with her right hand, tears cascading down her cheeks.

Galahad continued to gasp for his breath, his eyes fluttering, his body attempting to move even the smallest amount. He finally seemed to gain control of his breathing, though he dared not move. His eyes swam, trying to take in his surroundings. His mouth tried to question anyone, but no sound would come out.

It took Titania several moments to get her emotions controlled. She was so amazed, so shocked but his sudden consciousness that she was rather taken aback.

"Galahad," she finally managed through tears of joy, laughter. "Galahad, you're alright. That is, you're _going to be_ alright. It is Titania, you remember me?"

"Y-yes." was all he could manage, and barely that. His lips were dry. She immediately hurried to the bedside to retrieve a small wooden goblet of water and placed it carefully at his lips. He chocked on the water's chilling onslaught, but it helped a great deal.

"Where–how-"

Titania laughed. "I am not foolish, young knight. I know you desire ever detail of where you are, and I assure you everyone is well. At present, you need rest, however. Therefore, if you promise to relax I will, in turn, promise to give you your information." She raised her head in expectance, a smile playing slightly across her face as Galahad nodded. She knew how young he was at heart, how he loved his brothers and how quickly he would be out of that bed had he known they were all outside these walls, risking their lives without him.

* * *

Tristan's eyes swept over the battlefield as he drew his sword out of the body of a Saxon soldier. The ground was littered with men of German decent, alongside them were several people of the wood. Merlin's people.

But despite Merlin's loss, the battle was well in their favor. The Saxon numbers were waning like snow in the springtime. It would not be long, he knew, until the Saxon dogs realize their fate and accept defeat, running towards any shelter with their tails between their legs.

He smirked at this thought, it was much to his liking. Though, as accustomed to killing as he was, he had every intention of ending this lifestyle and growing more accustomed to a life with Gaia. A life, if Arthur chose to take this land, that was devoted to king and country. He would always be a soldier. That would never change. But his reason for living would be so much more than it ever was. And the most amazing circumstance of it all was that the beautiful little Briton had no inkling.

This pleasing reverie was interrupted by a screeching cream Tristan instantly recognized as Bors. He was yelling to Arthur.

The scout set his eyes once more and saw what it was that had caused Bors' outlandishness. For there was Cerdic, a mocking glare in his eyes, his palm intertwined in Arthur's hair as he held his blade stealthily at Arthur's throat.

Tristan did not think. He never really did anyway. He reach quickly into his quiver and produced one arrow, loaded it into his bow. In a heartbeat the small arrow had left its owner and embedded itself in Cerdic's left arm.

The Saxon staggered from the pain and released his grip on Arthur. Dagonet took this fleeting moment to haul Arthur away from the Saxon leader while Tristan unsheathed his curved sword, a look of utter determination on his face as he walked pointedly to Cerdic, simply slicing aside men who got in his way.

Cerdic was disappointed at his loss, but saw fresh meat in Tristan and happily swung his sword towards the man in ironic invitation.

Tristan only shifted his eyes to the sky where a single hawk flew freely through the air.

* * *

_**A/N: **I also want to appologize to my dear Capn Annie for my lack of detail in the last chapter. No slacking off, I promise! I'm trying :P I hope this was a better chapter. And aren't you happy I woke up Sleeping Beauty? I think it's time. Anyway, until the next update, my loves! Tata._


	32. Chapter 32

_**A/N: **Caio, a tutti! I'm sorry this is so late in coming. This here is the second-to-last chapter in the story, can you believe it? It's taken long enough, though I'm sad to see it finishing. Who knows, I may be back yet again. "If-a my managers command-a." "If my diva commands." "Yes, I do!" Hah, anyway! Enjoy this chapter, all._

* * *

At the fortress Gaia could see nothing. The smoke from Woad fires and the general expected dust from battle hovered like a cloud of the setting below. She had long since been able to fire any arrows and lost all sight of any of the men. She presently wrung her hands and paced the length of the battlements, her heartbeat faster than she ever recalled it being before.

She had ceased attempting to make out any noises from the battle long before now. It grew too irritant and her mind played horrible tricks on her, making ever scream sound like Tristan's or Arthur's or Bors'. She could only wait.

But not for long. The ominous call of a voice rang in the dark.

"Open the gates!" It was Dagonet.

She immediately rushed to the grounds, forgetting herself completely as she pushed past soldiers, men and children. Her breath caught in her chest when she saw Dagonet carrying their commander on his shoulders, the gash in Arthur's side fluid with blood.

"Take him!" Dagonet called to a young man standing beside the gates. "Take him to Marius' bedchamber. Find Fulciana Honorius, she will tend to him." His eyes locked with Gaia's as her horror-stricken face took in ever inch of Arthur's wound. She had paled considerably, and Dagonet felt his heart go out to her, but this was a battle and these things did happen.

He turned to retreat to the battle, but she called to him hastily, her voice nearly a scream. He had barely turned back to her before she had flung herself into his arms and began to weep uncontrollably. His mouth hung slightly open at this and he simply patted her head in understanding.

"It will be over soon," he said sternly, taking her chin in his massive hand and forcing her to look in his eyes. "Your knights will survive this night. All. I promise you."

* * *

Tristan dared not close his eyes for even a fraction of a second as he paced sideways, one foot over the other, walking clockwise with Cerdic opposite him doing just the same. Each man had their sword poised in the center of this invisible circle and both fixed their eyes on one another unflinchingly.

Tristan breathed, waited for Cerdic to make the first move as he knew he very well would. The Saxon was tense and lifeless, he killed without sense. Tristan could feel it. He felt a confidence arise at this thought, knew exactly how to handle a man like Cerdic.

Finally, as he expected, Cerdic charged. Tristan maneuvered quickly, sidestepping and swinging his blade precisely to cause Cerdic to stumble. Again, the circle was created and they poised their swords once more. And once more Cerdic charged.

And once more Tristan blocked.

It was not so monotonous, however. Tristan's brain worked fervidly to attaining his goal. He would be one step ahead of Cerdic, it was his greatest chance. To suspect every move possible and come to expect them all. He saw the Saxon's eyes flash malevolently. And again he charged.

This time Tristan did not allow the circle to be remade. He swept in and attacked Cerdic, his blade moving faster than lightning. Cerdic parried, only to find a new attack presented to him by Tristan.

It erupted into an onslaught, Tristan's curved blade upon Cerdic's barbaric one in a clash of metal so repetitive and so continuous that several fighting Saxons paused to watch. Tristan did not tire. He formed a new blow with every swing until Cerdic's blade flew from his hand.

The Saxon looked at Tristan with eyes wider than saucers. Never had he seen fighting such as this. If only he'd had a son who was not afraid to fight like this man before him. He saw Tristan nod to the sword and he slowly picked it up, watching Tristan from the corner of his eye.

And as Tristan too expected, Cerdic attempted a surprise attack, lunging suddenly from the ground in an unceremonious effort. But Tristan blocked this blow and set on his own attack once more.

Cerdic was gasping for breath, utterly bewildered. He lunged again, but received a more splendid attack in return. This man was a machine, he thought. A bloody machine.

But Cerdic had never felt fear in his life. He would not allow it. And he set a determined mind, lunged once more. This time, Tristan swung his blade and sliced deeply into Cerdic's side. The Saxon fell to the ground in a heap and began to struggle.

He would not revel in this victory. Tristan was not that way, not anymore. He took pleasure in the last few moments of this man's life, but he had so much more than this now. Just the same, he felt a warmth rush through his person as he grasped the long blonde strands of Cerdic's, and in one sweeping moment he severed the Saxon's head.

He threw what was left of the man to the ground and looked around him, taking a satisfied breath. He was not surprised by what he saw. Every remaining Saxon, and they were few, either took their own life or acquiesced to whomever they were fighting; the Sarmatian or Woad of whom they fought immediately took their lives for them.

Tristan smirked. "Cut the head off the snake, the body does as well."

* * *

The calls rang through to the fortress that the battle was over, and Gaia felt a large breath escape her lungs. She rushed down the steps once more and this time did not wait by the entrance. She hastily walked out of the large gates as they opened and smiled widely, despite the bloody site before her.

There they were. All of them. Lancelot, Bors, Gawain and Dagonet. Guinevere and Merlin and Aeron. _Tristan_. She stood, reveling in the moment: it was over. No more fighting, no more war. Freedom was all that awaited her and her knight now. Sweet freedom.

He was obviously wearied by the fight, of which she knew little. But when finally he raised his eyes and saw her, he nearly stopped in his tracks, just beholding the sight. Taking in the idea of the same freedom she was thinking of.

Their eyes met and Gaia did not wait a moment before rushing through the debris and result of the horrific warfare, running to the dream that awaited her. She crashed unceremoniously into his arms and both were silent in happiness as they simply looked into the other's eyes.

* * *

_**A/N: **I was actually going to stop the chapter right after Tristan's fight, but I felt that the next chapter was too long and this one too short, so I split the difference, I guess. I'm sorry I didn't get into the details of the other knights' fighting. I didn't really want to draw it out too much. Hope you enjoyed. And thanks again for the reviews!_


	33. Chapter 33

_**A/N: **Ok, if you lovely people are still out there, you have my sincere apologies for not updating this last chapter faster! I wanted to add more Tristan/Gaia, but couldn't finish it right. Now I think I have. I could have divided this into two chapters, but I kept it one unearthly long one. So sorry for that. The people in my head liked it this way. Anyway! Here we go: the final chapter! Enjoy!_

* * *

Fulciana had tended to Arthur's wound and dressed it decently. She and Titania, once hearing that the war was now over, decided to help both wounded men to the grounds to rejoice with their brothers. Though both men were barely able to walk.

Upon reaching the ground, Guinevere rushed to Arthur's side, helping him to stand. They looked at eachother lovingly for a long moment before their eyes rested on the others. All eyes met and everyone knew the message in Arthur's eyes. His decision, his land, had come to him.

There they all stood: Tristan and Gaia, Dagonet, Bors, Lancelot, Gawain, Galahad, Titania and Aeron, Arthur and Guinevere. Jols and Horton, Alecto and his family. Merlin. Little Elijah and his father. Everyone stood in silence, a prayer running through every mind present. A prayer of thanksgiving.

And without warning, thunder rolled off in the distance and rain fell, softly at first, but soon it grew into a strong storm, pounding unflinchingly on the armor of the knights. For a moment everyone seemed annoyed, but then just as suddenly they all began to laugh.

They roared with laughter. Laughter for no reason. And why did they need a reason? Their trials were over, their lives finally their own. Laughter should be expected. It was certainly the sweetest laughter, accompanied by the squeals of children as they played in the rain, reenacting their own battles and dreaming of being a knight.

Bors pounded a fist on his armor and thrust it into the air. He was joined by everyone else in this movement as they all screeched out the infamous Sarmatian war cry, their hearts finding a new passion, a new life. A new freedom.

"Artorius!"

Gaia's sides hurt from laughing as she thrust her fist into the air a second time, but she could not resist smiling and could certainly not fight the laughter, the happiness that welled inside her. She felt her cheeks grow crimson once more as Tristan pulled her to him and kissed her in a long, sweeping motion that took her breath away. Their lips parted as the crowd roared once more in cheer for Arthur and his knights. _King Arthur_ and his knights.

* * *

The road back to the fortress at Hadrian's Wall was not nearly so tiresome as it had been in the previous months. The sun shown brightly and the trees bloomed suddenly. There was no snow, no rain. This was a pleasant Britain. A lovely, warm Britain. A Britain with a new king.

The Woads and Sarmatians we no longer. Only Britons, united into one mass. It was an amazing thing to ride her mare through the woods as Gaia did and engage in conversation with the men and women who dwelt there. The Britain her mother had told her of, the one she had dreamed of coming to pass, was finally here.

Beside Gaia's mare Lancelot rode in silence, his face rather placid while others around him laughed together. This was not Lancelot, she knew it. And she knew _why._

"I do hope," Gaia drawled sarcastically, "that, when Arthur becomes King and you become his most trusted knight, you will not burden that round table of his with such a heavy _dramatis personae_."

Lancelot laughed silently, lightly. "And what would be your contribution against such a persona?" he asked, the trademarked wicked smile playing charmingly across his features, his curly hair blowing so slightly. He really did look perfect in Gaia's eyes and she smirked at his personality.

"Ah," she sighed as she fixed her eyes on the road. "To think, I missed you for a moment."

This time Lancelot laughed heavier and shook his head. "You are charming, Milady." he said mockingly.

"You're going to be famous, Lancelot," Gaia sighed, ignoring his jeers and looking seriously, lightly into his eyes.

"And how is that?"

"What's you've done," she said, "and what you've yet to do. It will all go down in the greatest of histories of the world."

Lancelot nodded in thought. "Sir Lancelot the Gallant. Or perhaps Sir Lancelot the Brave? The Chivalrous?"

"Oh," Gaia laughed, "I do believe that you are already dubbed Sir Lancelot the Asinine, my dear knight."

Lancelot nodded expectantly at this and joined the surrounding knights in a round of laughter, nodding in acceptance of his certain new nickname.

* * *

The reception at the Wall was fantastic; good food and drink was accompanied by the clearest of night skies and the beautiful music that the Woads practiced so. Small guitars of simple make were strumming a lovely melody into the air, interrupted only by the loudness of the knights and friends.

Vanora was beyond ecstatic to see her Bors again. In fact, their reunion was enough to set Gaia's complexion afire and she immediately turned her attention from them.

Presently, Lancelot stood silently by the fire, his third drink poised in his hand. Not a mark of drunkenness was found in his demeanor, to be sure. In fact he was more sobered now than ever before. But he was deep in thought and concentration, two things he rarely entertained. He did not see Titania approach him from the side. She stood in silence beside him for a long while, a drink too in her hand though she had undoubtedly yet to taste it.

"Lancelot," she finally whispered and he turned to her with raised eyebrows. She struggles for the words. "I just want to tell you how sorry I am. For everything. I hurt you, I know. I will never forgive myself for what I've done."

He smiled a small smile. "You did nothing wrong," he said. "I simply am too persistent. I must realize I am perhaps not meant to love at all."

"Oh, Lancelot!" she sighed in frustration, dropping her drink and taking his hand. "You'll see! A beautiful blonde with a heart as big as the stars will someday cross your path. And she'll be yours, forever. Completely under that magical spell you have. You'll see!"

Lancelot laughed and shook his head. "I can only hope you are right."

"I _am_ right." There was a moment's silence before someone cleared his throat beside Titania and both turned to Aeron. He was not angry, but smiling lightly. He nodded slightly to Titania and she turned back to Lancelot.

"I'm not going anywhere," she joked. "If I get tired of _him..._"

"Indeed!" Lancelot replied, but he immediately took Aeron's hand and the two men shook with smiles, all sense of contestation finally lost on them as the three laughed together. Titania kissed Lancelot's cheek and retreated with Aeron to where Merlin stood with Arthur and Guinevere.

Lancelot looked after her for a moment, contemplating her words.

"How's the handsome one holding up?" Lancelot turned to Gawain with a smile and thrust his cup into the air mockingly.

"Good and drunk" was his reply.

"Bloody well, then," Gawain smirked as he stood beside Lancelot, his eyes watching Titania as well. "And how will you be when you aren't drunk? She'll be around, you know. None of your tricks this time."

Lancelot nodded and looked around, taking in the scene and every person present. His eyes caught on a beautiful blonde barmaid standing by herself and he smiled brightly. "No tricks? Can't say I can agree to that, Gawain," he laughed as he slapped his brother on the back.

* * *

The hills of Britain rang out with more than one marriage. It was on one splendid afternoon when the country was in its prime, on Midsummer's Day that four couples announced their vows and excepted the road of matrimony.

Arthur to Guinevere, the king and his queen. As lovely a pair as any could hope for. Bors and Vanora, the woman was exasperated by the proposal after the birth of their twelfth child. Aeron and Titania, the prince and princess of the wood were perhaps the happiest two people on the planet that day. And finally, Tristan and Gaia.

After so long, there they were. Finally. Together forever, as they declared it. So much love have never before been shared between two people, and only afterwards was its replacement attempted, though never achieved. Through wars and differences, heartaches and loneliness, they were finally together as one.

The four couples stood in the knights' quarters, each beside a seat at Arthur's round table. Accompanied by the appointed knights. Of course, Gawain and the healed Galahad, Dagonet and Lancelot, but also by Sir Jols the Courageous who had proven himself twice-over as worthy as any man could be for such an appointment.

The king raised his goblet and his knights and ladies followed suit, all clothed in the most ornate fashion of the day. The ladies wore beautifully crafted gowns with golden-leaved coronets adorned atop their heads. The men were handsome, especially Tristan despite the locks he refused the untangle.

Alecto Honorius stood looking on with his family, a smile on his face as he prepared himself for the life ahead of him. He had promised himself, and Arthur, that he would do his best to change the world as Arthur would. They would be one, Britain's kingdom and the church.

Merlin's voice rang out as the knights and ladies, their king and queen all raised glasses and drained them softly.

"Let this day be remembered," said Merlin, "as the day Britain became reborn. As did its people. Hail King Arthur! The once and future king!"

The room erupted with cheers, with Bors' Sarmatian cry, with applause, with music. Indeed it seemed the entire world was reborn. This was not a world of war and anger, of winter and rain, but of beauty and reverie and barefooted walks through sunlit river woods. This was Britain as it was meant to be, Gaia knew. And she was happier than she ever thought she could be as she embraced her knight once more, taking in every scent of the moment, evert sight to be seen.

She promised herself to never forget it, any of it. It was amazing to think, as she did, that once again she had been blessed with the happiest of endings as only Midsummer's Day could deliver.

* * *

"Tell me your thoughts." Gaia turned at the sound of Tristan's voice. She had been tenderly folding her beautiful wedding gown the evening after their wedding. The sounds of drunken knights and villagers, Britons, cascaded through the open window where Tristan sat.

"I beg your pardon?" she asked, a little taken aback. He smirked and left his seat, walking behind her to enfold his arms around her shoulders.

"I want to know your every reverie," he answered before bending and gently kissing her neck. "Your every desire, your every dream. I want to be inside your head."

Gaia was slightly breathless, but managed her reply. "If you were in my head," she returned, "you would find no thoughts, no expectations: only a dream that has very much come true." She turned around to face him, her eyes instantly connecting with his. "If you were inside my head you would find the most blissful happiness, unlike anything we will see on this earth. You would find two people very much in love, walking barefoot through grass a shade so green that we would not even comprehend its colour; rivers so blue, it would be as such the same. This place, these people, you and I: those are my thoughts. And I swear I shall never let them go." She sighed and paused, noting the glow in his eyes before adding, "You are already very much inside my head. Does that satisfy you, my love?"

Tristan leaned forward and laid his forehead on hers, their eye contact stronger than ever.

"Either we share one brain, my love," he said, "or you have stolen my thoughts and are masquerading them as your own." She smiled without words, uncertain of what to say, not wanting to say anything at all. Wanting him to speak more. And he did. It was unusual to hear soft, kind words from the introverted soldier, the man who killed for the mere pleasure of it. She almost didn't think it possible for him to love anyone. She did not know that the same thought was running through his mind. He did not believe he would ever love anyone like he loved her. She was everything to him, and the most beguiling part of it all was that she had absolutely no idea. Her modesty was only a facade, covering something much more, some undescribable purity that lit his world. And presently, for the first time in his life, he prayed a simple prayer of thanks to whomever created the beautiful woman who had unknowingly altered the course of his life and the man who lived it.

**_Finis_**

This story is over, I your humble narrator now proclaim,  
That it might continue under new name.  
And in words immortalized by such cleaver a sprite,  
I leave you now with endearment requite:

If we shadows have offended,  
Think but this, and all is mended,  
That you have but slumb'red here  
While these visions did appear.  
And this weak and idle theme,  
No more yielding but a dream,  
Gentles, do not reprehend:  
If you pardon, we will mend.

-Puck; A Midsummer Night's Dream by William Shakespear

* * *

_**A/N: **Thank you so much to everyone for sticking with me through this story, as boring as it may have gotten at some points - and as long as it took me to update! Special thanks to Ms Genova, Captain Annie, Janell (hey, did you catch the hint to the pretty blonde? Get in there! lol!) and of course my dear friend PantherS. You four wonderful ladies have helped me a lot and have inspired me so much! I love you all and thank you for your unending kindness._

_I may be back with another story to add on here, but for now I'm going to try my hand at some original stuff (I'll be posting that in a journal, the link to which will be up in my profile soon) and hopefully get to work on the other two fanfictions on here that have gone without updates for far too long. :) Again, thank you all for you immense support!_

_Your Humble Friend,  
Idril the Pirate_


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